


Coming Apart At The Seams

by susannahlilly



Category: Arma Angelus, Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M, andtrick - Freeform, wentzman - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-02-06 13:35:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12818658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/susannahlilly/pseuds/susannahlilly
Summary: Pete was his everything. And then suddenly Pete was gone, and Joe had nothing. But the worst part about it all was that Joe had never really meant shit to Pete, had he?





	1. There's a Hole Where Something Was

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Joe centric wentzman fic with a side of andtrick. High school au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just for reference, Joe and Patrick are juniors in high school in this fic, and Andy is newly graduated.

Joe Trohman lay across his bed, his legs dangling over the edge to match his best friend’s. “I think my mom and dad are getting me a new bass for Christmas,” he informed Patrick, who made a small humming sound out the back of his throat in response. After another moment of silence, Joe added, “I hope they get me the one I want…”

“Yeah my parents got me a drum set when I was in sixth grade,” Patrick sighed, “It wasn’t a very good one, or the one I wanted, but I learned how to play drums on it, and it wasn’t horrible. Plus my parents didn’t want to get me something fancy that I would get bored of after a while, you know… they didn’t know if I was actually going to stay serious about it… but I did.”

Joe nodded slowly. “Yeah. I mean mom and dad know that I’m serious since I’ve been playing so long. They just don’t always have the best taste.”

Patrick laughed a little at that. “Yeah that’s understandable.” 

There was another long moment of silence, both the friends humming along quietly to the Led Zeppelin song that was playing in the background. They didn’t mind the silence though, that’s how it was with them sometimes. Just quiet. Pete had been loud, wild, excitable, and energetic. Pete had kept Joe on his feet at all times. But Patrick was soft, under spoken, and shy. Joe was the talker of the two. And sometimes Joe realized that now he was actually able to express his opinions; Pete’s tongue wasn’t constantly shoved down his throat.

After about half an hour, the familiar tap came from the window. Mrs. Trohman had threatened Joe once about letting his friends throw rocks at his window. One time Pete had thrown one too hard and it hadn’t ended well. So from now on Joe made sure they only threw small pebbles.

Patrick slipped out of the bed quickly with that smile he always got, that ‘I’m in love’ face, and peeked out, waving at the boy below with glasses and long hair. Joe sighed and slipped off the bed, grabbing his coat and putting it on with a sigh. “C’mon,” he mumbled to Patrick, not that he needed to since Patrick was already rushing down the stairs ahead of him. Once Joe got outside, Patrick was already standing by Andy, their fingers intertwined. 

“Hurry up Troh,” Patrick grinned.

Joe just flipped Patrick off and sighed. “Hey Andy.”

“Hey” Andy said casually, “we have twenty minutes before I need to be there so let’s go” he commanded, giving Patrick’s hand a little squeeze and heading back to the car. Once Andy started the car back up and made sure to check if Joe got in the car, he drove off a little faster than he probably should have. 

Joe sighed, staring out the window as Andy drove. He didn’t really remember what they were doing except that they were going to watch Andy fill in for some band’s drummer at some bar. Patrick had told him all the details, but he wasn’t listening when Patrick did. He didn’t care all that much anyways; he was jealous Andy got to be part of real bands and shit. Sometimes Joe played around on his guitar with Patrick and stuff, but never with Andy or anyone else. Except Pete; Pete used to teach Joe new shit on the bass. But Joe sometimes just tried to forget that. He tried to forget that one of Pete’s old bass guitars was still sitting in the back of his closet. Before Joe knew it, Patrick was telling him they’d arrived. “Alright,” he sighed, climbing out of the back of Andy’s car and walking behind Andy, with Patrick beside him. 

“How long does this thing go Andy?” He wondered, “‘Cause my mom will kill me if I’m not home before midnight.”

“As long as they need me for.” Andy walked to the trunk and popped it open for his stuff. They already had a drum set prearranged, but he always made sure to use his own sticks. 

Patrick watched as Andy got his drumsticks from the back of his car. “Are you spending the night with us?” He asked Andy hopefully, smiling a little.

“I can,” Andy put simply, stuffing his sticks in his pocket and running up to where the building had stairs leading up to the back exit door. He rapped on the locked grey door and waited before a guy with jet black hair opened it. Andy assumed the guy knew who he was since he immediately let him in and lead him to where the drum was positioned near the back of the bar room. He didn’t say anything but sat down, pulling his sticks out and waiting for the cue for when to start. The guitars and microphone was already set up so he expected it to be soon. 

Joe glanced at Patrick with a frown. “Something is wrong with Andy,” he said bluntly.

“I- I think he’s just on edge about the gig…” Patrick trailed off.

Joe shrugged a little. “So what the fuck are we supposed to do? Just go inside and find somewhere to sit? Are they even going to let us inside a bar?” 

Patrick shrugged in response, “I don’t know, I guess just say we are friends with the drummer if they try to kick us out.”

Joe nodded slowly, “Alright let’s go.” Patrick followed Joe quietly, seeming a little down in spirits from Andy’s strange behavior. Once they were inside, they found a small table to sit at. Normally Joe would have waved at Andy, but then he had a thought that it might be uncool and embarrass Andy, so Joe just watched, warily waiting for the rest of the band to come out.

Andy shifted on the stool and his eyes scanned around the room. There was no stage so it wasn’t like they were on the spot. Well, they were but at least it wasn’t like he was up on some platform with lights directed at him. This way he could maybe stay in the back. He was never really fond of having people watch him. Besides he was just filling in, he wasn’t what people would be watching the whole time. Once Andy spotted a familiar face, Pete, he eased a little bit. 

 

Pete walked out with cords tangled around one fist, glancing at Andy with relief noticeable on his face. “You actually came?” Pete untangled the cords and plugged it into the speakers, “Jay left last minute and I didn’t think you’d actually fill in,” Pete admitted. He walked away from Andy, not giving him a chance to say anything back and tapped the microphone as the other four people made it into stage. 

Joe’s eyes flitted across the other guys coming onto the stage when his eyes set on a familiar face and his heart stopped for a moment. “Patrick-” he murmured, feeling a bit nauseous suddenly, “you didn’t tell me Andy was filling in for Arma-”

“I actually did tell you that, like twice man,” Patrick frowned, noticing Joe’s uncomfortable state, “Joe what’s going on?”

“N-nothing’s going on,” Joe spoke slowly, looking away from the stage and thanking the gods they were in a dark corner where no one would likely notice them.

“Don’t lie; you’re a bad liar.” Patrick frowned, putting a hand on Joe’s arm.

“I’m fine,” Joe snapped a little.

Patrick sighed but knew better than to pry anymore.

“We’re Arma Angelus and we’re here to fuck up the sound systems and probably break some shit” Pete started, his voice echoing through the room. The guitarist started a semi-eerie riff as Pete took a sloppy drink of water before starting the setlist off with We Are The Pale Horse, a song that sounded as if it were interrupting the casual bar feel. 

Patrick watched as the band began to play, thinking that they were pretty shitty and Andy deserved to play with a better group than that. He turned to Joe, “The lyrics aren’t terrible, but they fucking suck dude.” He ended with a short laugh. Joe just nodded in agreement, knowing the only good thing about that band was Pete, and none of them fucking deserved him.

When the show was finally over, Joe slipped on his jacket quickly. “We should just go wait for Andy at the car,” he practically begged.

“No,” Patrick protested, “I want to go congratulate Andy. And maybe meet those other guys and tell them how shitty their band is,” he joked.

Joe shook his head in protest but Patrick was already pulling him towards the stage, so Joe just braced himself for what was coming next.

“Andy!” Patrick exclaimed, waving with a smile.

Andy stuffed his drumsticks in his back pocket and smiled a little. He left the drums and met Patrick at the bottom of the stage, soaked with sweat but not hesitating to wrap his arms around the short boy.

Patrick smiled and lay his head against Andy’s chest a moment before pulling away, “You did good, but this is a shitty band.” Patrick didn’t realize he probably said that loud enough for everyone else on the stage to hear too.

“Patrick, Jesus Christ,” Joe mumbled underneath his breath, looking at the floor and hoping no one would notice him standing a few feet away from Andy and Patrick.

“Hey!” Someone from the stage, slinging a cloth over his shoulder yelled defensively yet he was joking. “Could be worse, we could’ve busted the speakers,” he laughed and jumped down off the stage as Pete followed behind.

Pete stood at the edge of the stage with a bottle in his hand, the other hand draped around the dark haired guys shoulder. “I actually planned on busting the speakers,” Pete joked. He looked up and a small smile ghosted his lips when he saw Joe near Patrick and Andy. “Joe?” Pete called, trying to get his attention so he could confirm it was really him.

Joe felt a pang of something he couldn’t fully identify as he saw Pete with the dark haired guy, his arm around his shoulder. Joe quickly looked away, hoping they could leave very soon, when he suddenly heard his name in that very distinct voice that could only be Pete’s. He quickly looked back at them, his heart dropping a bit. He slowly stepped out of the shadows behind Patrick and Andy, taking a nervous breath. “Hey Pete.” He said quietly, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Patrick gasped a little, suddenly realizing why Joe had been so uncomfortable at the beginning of the performance, and why Joe had wanted to leave early so badly. He looked back at the guy who he now knew as Pete and scowled a little. 

Pete realized that Joe was probably confused. “Oh, this is Adam,” Pete cleared up, “We’ve been-“ Pete gets cut off when Adam grabbed Pete’s hands, causing the water bottle to fall, and pulled his arms back behind him, kissing him rather shamelessly and not giving a shit of it looked like he was swallowing Pete’s face. “Yeah” Pete breathed once Adam pulled away, “that.”

Joe felt as though maybe someone was stabbing a knife into his heart and twisting it around. He could only nod slowly and do his best to give the two a weak smile. “Oh, that’s uh, cool,” Joe spoke awkwardly, not really knowing how to respond, but then saw Adam looking at him curiously. “We knew each other in high school,” Joe said with a small shrug.

Patrick looked at Pete with a disgusted look on his face and then turned to Andy. “Can we please go Andy? I’d like to spend my evening in better company than this,” he said rather bluntly.

Andy nodded, fumbling for his keys and swirling them around his finger. It was around eleven now and Andy knew Joe needed to get back before midnight. “We have to go,” Andy smiled a little, “catch up sometime?” He left before Pete could respond.

“Uh, it was nice to see you again. Bye Pete,” Joe said quickly and turned to follow Patrick and Andy out of the bar.

Adam raised an eyebrow as the three of them left, scowling slightly. “You were friends?” He asked, pulling Pete closer so their hips were touching.

Pete twisted his lip and shrugged, “Yeah, I guess,” he brushed it off like nothing, not wanting to spend more time on the subject. 

After they got into the car, Patrick shot a glare at Andy. “Why didn’t you fucking tell me Pete Wentz was in that band Andy?” He questioned with annoyance.

“Patrick, chill,” Joe mumbled quietly from the back seat.

“No,” Patrick frowned, “Andy should have known that would make you upset.”

“Just fuck off this subject okay?” Joe suddenly spat, “I don’t really give a shit about Pete Wentz anymore, and I don’t want to talk about it.”

Patrick just sighed and looked out the window, away from Andy.

Andy tightened his grip on the wheel. “Thought everyone knew Pete had started that band,” he said casually, keeping his eyes on the road. “Besides, I didn’t think it’d be such a big deal with you,” he directed to Joe. 

“It wasn’t, I’m fine,” Joe protested, “Patrick was just overreacting.”

“Yeah right,” Patrick mumbled underneath his breath.

“Can we just go back home and have a normal night please? Watch a movie or something? Order pizza?” Joe sighed weakly, trying to ignore the scene of that Adam dude sucking off Pete’s face as it replayed over and over in his mind. 

As they neared Joe’s house, Andy glanced at Joe in the rearview mirror. “I could go for pizza,” he mumbled, ignoring the fact that he could tell Joe was bothered. He pulled into the driveway and got out of the vehicle, walking over to Patrick’s side and opening the door for him. 

Patrick slowly got out of the car, not really looking at Andy. “You should go get pizza. Joe and I will pick a movie,” he said, still slightly bothered by Andy’s insensitivity towards everything with Pete.

Joe nodded slowly as he got out of the back of the car and trudged towards the door. He didn’t bother waiting for Patrick, he just walked inside.

Andy shut the door and walked up to the front door, pushing it to get in, seeing as how it was already open a crack. “We can just order,” he mumbled, yawning a bit as he pulled his phone out and dialed the nearest pizza place. “Usual?” he asked, looking at Patrick who just stepped in the door and looking for Joe in the other room sorting through movies.

“Yeah whatever,” Patrick muttered, going to sit on the couch and watching Joe toss the movies aside as he pulled them out, making a bit of a mess. “Joe?”

Joe continued to toss the movies aside aimlessly, nothing catching his eye. After a moment, he scrambled to his feet. “I have to piss, you pick something.” He didn’t wait for Patrick to respond and quickly left the room.

Patrick sighed and slowly looked at Andy who had just finished ordering pizza. “I told you it was going to fuck him up, you idiot,” Patrick mumbled and looked away, angry at Andy, but not really wanting to be.

“Look, I was asked to fill in so I did,” Andy started, walking to the living room, “I didn’t realize it would be a fucking problem.” Andy sighed sadly, “Sorry,” he whispered after being silent for a moment. “Is he okay?” Andy knew it was a stupid question but he didn’t know what else to say. 

Patrick shrugged, “I don’t know… I think he’s probably just brooding now.”

Joe slipped into the bathroom and shut the door, sinking down against the wall so he was sitting. He pulled his knees to his chest and tried not to think about the past- he tried so hard. But it was is if Pete had hardly known him. As if nothing ever happened at all. And maybe none of it ever meant anything to Pete. So Joe didn’t cry. He wouldn’t let himself. He wasn’t a child anyways. 

That evening, after movie and a pizza, he lay curled up in his bed, the sound of Andy and Patrick’s soft breathing comforting him a bit. He would be okay. He wouldn’t see Pete again. He would be just fine. The pain in his heart would go away soon. That was his last thought before he drifted off into slumber.


	2. I Can't Remember The Good Old Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here's chapter two! We probably won't always post a chapter a day, but Thanksgiving break has blessed me with time :')  
> So enjoy my friends!

Patrick sighed, his hands shoved into his pockets as he watched Joe grabbing his coat and slipping his shoes on. “Joe, this isn’t a good idea,” Patrick sighed.

“Why not?” Joe mumbled, even though he knew Patrick’s answer.

“I just don’t understand what would possess you to actually want to see his face again. I saw what it did to you Friday,” Patrick spoke with concern.

“I’m not going because I want to see his face, I’m going because I want to hang out with Andy. And if Andy has to stop by to pick something up, I don’t see why it’s a big deal,” Joe shrugged.

“Yeah sure, I believe you now, so sincere,” Patrick rolled his eyes.

Joe just ignored Patrick and started downstairs, walking outside as Andy pulled up. “Hey Andy,” he smiled a little, getting into the back like usual.

Patrick got into the front, leaning over to press his lips softly against Andy’s. Andy smiled and kissed Patrick back, holding Patrick’s face with one hand, turning the stereo on with the other. He drove away to head over to Pete’s place. He had left something at the bar, and Pete also said he’d let Andy have a pair of their drummer’s old light up drumsticks. Once he pulled up to the house and stopped the car, Andy was going to walk up to the front door when he noticed Pete was pacing outside the garage, a phone held up to his ear. “Should we stop by later or-?” 

Joe shook his head, that familiar feeling of fluttering in his heart, just at the sight of Pete. “No we should just get your stuff now and go,” Joe mumbled, opening his car door and stepping out.

Andy got out of the car and walked over to Pete. Surely he had already seen them pull up.   
Pete glanced at Andy and puffed his mouth before going back to the conversation. “Yeah I know- look I know,” he sounded aggravated. “I know it was dangerous but I’m sure I can get my license back and- Mom, Hillary can’t drive either.” Pete held the phone down and sighed, looking at the three of them standing out on the pavement awkwardly. “Andy, you can just go in and grab your stuff. It’s on the counter.”

Joe watched as Andy went inside to get his stuff, and then turned to Pete and raised an eyebrow. “You lost your license? You always were a dumbass driver.” Patrick snorted a little bit at that, but didn’t say anything.

Pete rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I did,” he said straightforwardly. He held the phone up to his ear before ignoring the constant yelling on the other line and hanging up. “It’s really not that fucking big of a deal. I can just get Adam to drive me.”

Joe laughed a little and gave Pete a thumbs up. “Good luck. I’m sure he’ll love being your bitch.” Patrick laughed at Joe’s words again. 

Pete glared a little before laughing. “My bitch?” he raised an eyebrow. He glanced over at Andy who was carrying his stuff in his hand and set them in the trunk. Pete knew that Adam had another job other than playing for their shitty band. A job that he actually made money off. “If he can’t drive me, I’ll fucking walk,” Pete spat stubbornly.

“I can drive you,” Joe said casually, and then wondered if those words had actually just come out of his mouth and why the fuck he had just fucking offered to be Pete Wentz’s chauffeur. He mentally punched himself a few times.

Patrick slowly raised an eyebrow as he looked at Joe, almost not believing what Joe had said himself. Patrick glanced at Andy waiting by the car and then gave Joe’s sleeve a firm tug. “He’s kidding, that was a joke,” Patrick informed Pete and began to pull Joe back towards the car.

“I meant that!” Joe called back over his shoulder to Pete, also wondering why he had added that part.

Pete raised his brow, kind of confused on if Joe was serious. “Would you?” Pete wondered out loud as the rather humorous scene of Patrick pulling Joe back by his sleeve played on.

Joe nodded, “yeah but I don’t have a car,” he called as Patrick shoved him into the back of the car and shut the door. 

“No he won’t, he has a life and while you might make Adam your bitch, Joe most certainly won’t be,” Patrick scowled a bit and got into the passenger side, shutting the door behind him. “What a fucking user,” Patrick commented to Andy, “he’s worse than I ever imagined he would be.”

Andy sighed deeply and placed one hand on the wheel, glancing back at Joe in the back seat. “Patrick’s right, you need to be careful. You’re just gonna hurt yourself,” he said bluntly but his soft, light voice made it seem less stern. He drove out of the driveway and noticed how Pete had gotten on the phone again, looking aggravated like he was before.

Joe shrugged and just looked down. “I was just trying to be nice,” he mumbled. Joe knew Andy and Patrick were right, and he didn’t know what had possessed him to offer to drive Pete in the first place.

“Joe, he doesn’t deserve anyone to be nice to him,” Patrick said softly, his hand in Andy’s as Andy had only one hand on the steering wheel, “and he especially doesn’t deserve a minute of your time. You-“ Patrick frowned softly, “...you already wasted so much time on him before.”

Joe felt that familiar pang he had been feeling recently throb inside his chest. “Yeah I know,” he muttered in a half whisper. Yet again, Patrick was right. His friends were too smart for him. But while his brain could understand what they were saying, his heart still wanted more. 

Andy soothed his thumb over Patrick’s hand. “Hey, why don’t we go play video games or just hang out at my place or...” Andy trailed off. He was just trying to lighten the mood.

“I should probably get home; I have a lot of homework to catch up on anyways,” Joe said quietly, still gazing out the window.

“You sure…?” Patrick questioned with a bit of worry.

Joe nodded, “you guys always hang out with me anyways. It’ll be good if you guys get some alone time together. You could just drop me off at home, Andy,” Joe said lightly, giving his friends a tired smile.

Andy nodded slowly and quietly, knowing Joe probably would do best with some space at this point, since they really hadn’t given him much since that night with Arma at the bar. So Andy dropped Joe off, waving as Joe disappeared into his house. Andy glanced at Patrick and sighed. “I really didn’t realize Joe was going to get so fucked up over this Patrick. I really wouldn’t have told you to bring him.”

Patrick sighed and just gave Andy’s hand a squeeze. “I know. I shouldn’t have gotten so upset at you. It isn’t your fault…”

"Hey. I get it. But, I think in a week or two Joe will be back to his normal self. Don't worry okay 'Trick?" Andy leaned over and pressed his lips gently to Patrick's forehead. Patrick just nodded and sighed.

Joe, meanwhile, trudged up to his room and flopped down onto his bed, staring up at the whirling ceiling fan. He suddenly felt relieved that Patrick had dragged him away before he got caught up into something he would regret. He told himself that if Andy ever did anything with Arma again, he would just stay away. He didn’t need old scars being reopened. 

Joe spent the rest of the day fiddling around on his guitar, practicing riffs, and then helping his 12 year old brother Sam with his homework. After dinner, and responding to a few texts from Patrick asking if he was okay, he decided to go to bed early, curling up under his covers and turning out the light. The soft sunset shown gentle light through his curtains, until it faded away into moonlit darkness. His eyes slowly fluttered shut as sleep overtook him. 

The next few days passed similar for Joe. School. Homework. Guitar practice. Helping Sam with his homework. And of course, texting Patrick about random shit that had happened that day. By the end of that week, Joe was finally feeling a little better; finally realizing things would be okay and they could go back to normal. 

Joe thought too soon.

It was late one night, or even maybe just early in the morning, when Joe heard a rock hit his window. It wasn’t Andy; Andy only threw small pebbles. Patrick never threw anything at all. And neither had a reason to be sneaking to his window at night. “What the fuck?” Joe mumbled, slipping out of bed with confusion. He stumbled to the window, seeing a dark figure standing outside and thinking it had to be Patrick. There’s always a first time for everything. He quickly fumbled with the lock on the window and then threw it open. It took him a moment to realize who was actually outside his window, and for half a second he thought maybe he was still 14. But he wasn’t, and the last two years weren’t a lie. “What the fuck-” he spoke coldly, less of a question and more of a statement of disgust. 

There, standing in the dry grass, was Pete. He looked up from the ground but from the distance between Joe and him, plus the dark, it was impossible to make out any expression on his face. He started up the side of the house, climbing the gutter cougar style until he was perched on the roof hip. “Just like old times, aye?” He disrupted, pretending to ignore the tone of disgust in Joe’s voice. The night crickets chirping seemed to have stopped and left the ambiance a little awkward. 

‘No, nothing will ever be like old times again, because you fucking screwed it all up. You fucking left me to die.’ That’s what was running through Joe’s mind, but he didn’t say it out loud. Instead, Joe just blocked the window so Pete couldn’t get inside. “You can’t be here,” He said bluntly.

Pete bit the inside of his cheek. “Why not?” he frowned, starting to peel Joe’s fingers from where he gripped the border of the window to block Pete, “I can’t drive so it’s not like anyone will see my car parked in your driveway.”

“Pete-” Joe practically hissed, but he just watched as Pete peeled his fingers away and climbed into his bedroom, brushing his jeans off and looking around. Joe’s mind began to race. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Pete wasn’t supposed to come back. He was supposed to stay out of Joe’s life forever. Joe didn’t know how he was going to stick to that plan when Pete wasn't doing his own part. “Pete get out of my room,” he commanded suddenly, but his confidence quickly took a dive immediately after the words came out of his mouth.

“It’ll be fine,” Pete scoffed. He sat on the edge of Joe’s bed and laughed silently at how he had his teddy bear tucked in the covers. Pete suddenly got quiet. “You said you’d drive me,” he spoke hastily, fumbling with the hem of his shirt, not looking at Joe. Pete looked almost as if he was pleading. Almost. “Did you mean that?” he asked, completely ignoring the fact that he just invaded Joe’s room. 

Joe clenched his fists at the way Pete didn’t give a damn about anything or anyone but himself, just like always. Joe wondered if Pete knew how much he had fucking hurt him. “Get the fuck out of my room, Wentz,” he hissed again, doing everything in his power to keep tears from coming into his eyes.

“You’re just not gonna fucking answer me?” Pete asked casually, shrugging his shoulders. “What’s gotten into you, Trohman?” Pete stood off the bed, leaning his back against Joe’s wardrobe and shoving his hands into the pocket of his hoodie, giving him the appearance of one of those old, cliche, 70s film city slickers from the way the moon shone into the dark room and reflected it’s eerie light him.

Joe sighed and rolled his eyes. “I don’t owe you shit, Pete.” Joe was tempted to tell Pete to go home and come back the next day at an earthly hour and through the front door. But then again, Pete had probably walked all the way here, and he couldn’t just make him do it all over again for an answer.

Pete leaned his head back, “It’s not something you owe. It’s just something I thought you said you’d do.” He shrugged and sighed, leaning off the wardrobe.

Joe frowned and looked down. He stood there, thinking about it for a few minutes as an awkward silence filled the room. Finally, he spoke up. “Maybe. But there would have to be conditions,” he said with a warning tone.

“Like what?” Pete raised an eyebrow but Joe couldn’t tell since the room was so dark. “Is this like, your pet peeves or something?” 

Joe rolled his eyes. “What the fuck? No. I just mean- I don’t have a car so- it’ll have to be your’s. Furthermore, you’ll let me use your car to drive to school and back. And I won’t ever be playing hooky just to take you somewhere you fancy to go during school hours. And you’ll be paying for all the gas. And- I’m not driving you anywhere if we’re going to be out past midnight.” Joe ended firmly.

Pete sighed, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “Fine,” he eventually agreed, “my car, you can drive yourself to Hell, my gas money, and no driving somewhere fun after midnight.”

Joe nodded slowly and sighed. “Fine then. Now, go home. I have to sleep. Oh and- don’t ever climb up to my window again. That’s not a thing anymore,” he said with a sharp tone. 

Pete didn’t say anything but instead pulled one leg over the windowsill and nodded. “I’ll just text you when I need you. Your number’s probably somewhere at the end of my messages.” Before Joe could even open his mouth to speak, Pete was gone. He’d jumped from the roof and landed in the grass, his footsteps crunching the ground until he was far away and they couldn’t be heard anymore.

Joe felt like screaming. He felt like punching a wall, and yelling out words he wasn’t supposed to. But he didn’t. Sam was asleep, and so were his parents. There was no need to take this out on them. When Joe thought about it, he was surprised Pete even still had his number in his phone at all. He wished he didn’t. He wished Pete had forgotten he even existed. It would be better than this. But now he was stuck. He’d probably have to see Pete Wentz’s fucking face every day, and he’d probably have to watch that asshole Adam suck off Pete’s face a couple hundred more times while he was at it. 

Joe eventually slumped back down into his bed, sighing and running his hands through his curls. After what seemed like another hour, he finally curled back up under his covers and drifted off to sleep.


	3. I'm Trying To Trick Myself To Fall Asleep Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From now on most chapters will contain a flashback somewhere in them, usually at the beginning or end. Enjoy :)

Joe woke up in a cold sweat, sitting up quickly and panting for breath. “Fuck-” he whispered to himself, tears coming into his eyes as he covered his face and whimpered softly into his hands.

Pete had been asleep beside him, lying on his stomach. “Joe?” he stirred a little and rolled over on his side, tiredness evident in his voice. “Something happen?” He asked drowsily, now sitting up and soothing Joe’s shaking shoulders.

Joe slowly removed his hands from his face. “I just- nightmare.” He closed his eyes and shook his head, “I didn’t mean to wake you up… sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” Pete muttered softly. He shifted closer and wrapped his arms around Joe, then slowly pulled Joe back down on to the bed with his arms still around him. “Do you wanna talk about it?” Pete asked, pulling the thin covers over their bodies. 

Joe shook his head a little, nuzzling his face into Pete’s neck. “No, I just- want to forget about it. Can you sing to me Panda?” He asked shakily, his eyes closing again.

Pete let out a short laugh, “you know I can’t sing but-“ he set his chin on top of Joe’s head, “I’ll do it anyway.” He soothed a hand up Joe’s back until he was twirling one of Joe’s longer curls at the back of his neck in his finger. He sang something about honey and jelly beans until Joe’s breathing was lighter and he’d stopped shaking.

Joe let out a long, soft breath when Pete had stopped singing. “Thank you,” he mumbled, pulling away from Pete's neck and pressing his lips against Pete’s softly. 

Pete closed his lips on Joe’s, and then it was quiet for a while and the only light was that of the passing car headlights going by the window. “Goodnight again,” Pete whispered, and they slowly fell asleep with their warmth radiating between each other and their limbs tangled under the sheets. 

*****

 

When Joe awoke the next morning, he almost half expected Pete's arms to be wrapped around his waist. But that thought only lasted half a second. The last time he had woken up beside Pete was so long ago that he didn’t even want to think about it. He trudged down the stairs for breakfast with a sick feeling in his stomach, and slumped at the table, his head in his hands. Mrs Trohman raised an eyebrow and sighed. “Did you get any sleep last night sweetheart? I thought I heard you talking to someone. Was Patrick over?”

“What? N-no. Patrick doesn’t come over in the middle of the night,” Joe mumbled and began to poke at his pancakes with a fork.

“Did you have another nightmare?” She questioned with worry. 

“No mom, it wasn’t a nightmare, I’m okay,” Joe promised her, setting down his fork.

Mrs Trohman slowly set down the spatula she was using to flip the pancakes. “Joseph, if your nightmares are coming back-” 

“Mom- it wasn’t a nightmare!” Just snapped a bit, sighing and picking his fork back up.

“Joe there’s no need to use that tone with me. I just need you to understand that if they ever do come back, or if anything is keeping you from sleep- or anything like that- it’s okay to tell us. To talk about it. We want to help you if you’re not doing well,” She ended softly with a concerned look still on her face.

“Alright, mom. I’m good right now, no nightmares,” Joe sighed and put a small bite of pancakes in his mouth, chewing slowly and glancing up as his little brother trudged down the stairs, still in his pajamas. Joe swallowed his food and took a long drink of water. “Hey Sam.” He smiled at his brother’s still half asleep state.

“Hey,” Sam said, his voice still dry from sleep. He sat down at the table and just poked at his pancakes with his fork as if not interested in the sticky, syrup drenched mountain. But after taking one bite, he dropped the silverware and stuffed it in his mouth dramatically.

Joe rolled his eyes and disgust and stood up, draining his water and not even bothering to finish his breakfast. “So mom, I actually found a part time job.”

Mrs Trohman looked up and raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“Just going to be chauffeuring an old friend around. He lost his license,” Joe said slowly.

Mrs Trohman frowned. “And old friend? What friend?”

Joe sighed and shoved his hands into his jean pockets. “Pete Wentz,” he muttered, not making eye contact with his mom.

Mrs Trohman immediately shook her head. “Joe-“

“Mom I already told him I would. I’m 16, I can take care of myself. I’m a good driver. And he says he’ll let me drive his car to school. I’ll never be out after midnight. And I’ll never skip school to take him places,” Joe quickly assured his mother.

She placed her hands on her hips and gave Joe a cynical look. “Alright. I’ll talk to your dad just to make sure this is okay with him. But if you ever skip school or break curfew, you’ll be done with this nonsense immediately.”

“Okay. I have to go to school, I’ll be late,” Joe turned around and trudged upstairs to his room, grabbing his backpack and shoving his school books inside.

The whole time Joe and their mother talked, Sam stayed quiet at the table with his empty plate, and just looked back and forth between the two of them. He knew who Pete was and didn’t actually believe Joe would be his chauffeur. Sam stood up from the table and left his plate in the sink then ran upstairs to where Joe was now wetting his hair in the bathroom. “Hey, you okay?” Sam asked slowly as he stood in the doorway.

Joe glanced at Sam and raised an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I be?” He asked, playing clueless, and then turned back to the mirror, continuing to try and make his curls look decent today. 

“Because, Pete’s the guy who who left you crying in your room when he-“ Sam pursed his lips and leaned against the doorframe, “when he left, and now you’re gonna be driving him around?”

Joe felt that pang run through his heart and he stopped messing with his hair for a second before sighing and then deciding it was presentable. “That was like almost two years ago. I’m not crying anymore am I?” Joe turned to Sam and sighed at the look on his little brother’s face. He wrapped his arms around Sam and gave him a warm hug before pulling away. “I’ll be fine kid. Don’t worry about me.”

Sam sighed deeply, hugging his brother back and pressing his cheek into his shoulder. “Okay,” Sam finally let out. “Wait, if you’re driving Pete around, will you still be home a lot?”

Joe shrugged, thinking about how busy he’d probably be now. “I’ll be home as much as I can. I promise I’ll still help you with your homework. And if you get good grades I’ll still take you to the movies on the weekend,” Joe assured Sam as he walked out of the bathroom and slung his backpack onto his shoulder, “I gotta go kid.”

“See you,” Sam mumbled as Joe was already half way down the steps. He sighed quietly and trudged back down the stairs.

Patrick was already waiting outside on his bike, so Joe didn’t waste any time. “Bye mom!” He called hurriedly and ran outside, grabbing his own bike and quickly cycling off behind Patrick who had started ahead when he saw Joe. When they finally got to school and locked their bikes up, Joe followed Patrick inside to their lockers a bit breathlessly. 

“You wanna come over after school?” Patrick questioned, pulling something out of his locker.

“Yeah maybe,” Joe said, his mind still caught up on how he was going to tell Patrick.

It was lunchtime when they finally had time to actually talk. They sat under the tree out by the football field like usual, watching practice from a distance. “So Patrick…” Joe started.

Patrick looked at Joe and raised an eyebrow. “Hmm?” 

Joe sighed and slid one of his fingers around a curl. “I agreed to chauffeur Pete. He couldn’t find anyone else.”

Patrick immediately frowned, “Joe-”

“No, I don’t really want your opinion on it Patrick. I just wanted you to know,” Joe said, cutting Patrick off.

Patrick looked like he desperately wanted to say something else but just closed his mouth, making a mental note to get Andy to talk Joe out of it later.

Joe was grateful that Patrick hadn’t tried to talk him out of it. It was the last thing he needed. Plus he couldn’t screw Pete over like that. Not that Pete hadn’t screwed up Joe’s life. But Joe wasn’t Pete, and he never would be. So he ate the rest of his lunch in silence, avoiding Patrick’s disappointed looks.

Later that day after school, Patrick biked to Andy’s apartment instead of home, stowing his bike under the stairs and hurrying up them to knock on Andy’s apartment door. He stepped back with crossed arms and waited for Andy to appear. 

Andy opened the door a crack until he saw Patrick looking up at him and opened it the rest of the way. “Hey.”

Patrick smiled a little and pushed inside past Andy, waiting until Andy closed the door to wrap his arms around Andy’s neck and press his lips lightly against Andy’s. “Hi.” 

“Just decided to come over?” Andy laughed, cradling Patrick’s hips with his.

“I actually have a small favor to ask you,” Patrick sighed, placing one hand against Andy’s chest.

“And what’s that?” Andy mumbled, placing a hand on Patrick’s back, though he was kind of nervous about what Patrick wanted.

 

Patrick sighed and watched as Andy walked into his shabby looking kitchen and opened the refrigerator to grab a coke. “Joe- I think Pete got him to agree to driving him around everywhere. I- I don’t think I can do anything about it but you- you might be able to…?” Patrick looked at Andy hopefully.

Andy twisted his lip and messed with his labret piercing from the inside of his mouth in thought, “what do you suppose I do about it?” He looked at Patrick.

Patrick sighed, “I don’t know? Talk him out of it? He looks up to you, he’s more likely to listen to reason from you. And if worst comes to worst, you can go to Pete about it and tell Pete he needs to stop using Joe.” Patrick fumbled with his jacket string, sensing Andy didn’t really want to be part of whatever was going on. 

Andy shifted on his feet. “I’ll talk to Joe,” he decided, “if you come with me. We’ll have a regular hang out so it’ll be casual.”

Patrick sighed and nodded, “Alright. Thank you. I told him I might come over later, so maybe you could drive us over right now?”

Andy was already a step ahead of Patrick and palmed his back pocket for his keys. “I mean, it is later so let’s go,” Andy opened the door and unlocked his vehicle for them to hop in. Patrick didn’t waste a moment and climbed in beside Andy, buckling his seat belt as they started towards Joe’s. 

 

Pete walked around his room with his phone in his hand. He scrolled past all his contacts until he saw the one labeled ‘Duck Hunt’ and frowned at the old nickname, a wave of something hitting him, but only for a second. He hit dial and held the phone up to his ear.

Joe was situated on his bed with Sam beside him, watching as his little brother carefully worked through one of his math problems. He was just about to tell Sam to get out his science homework when Joe’s phone began to ring with a ringtone that was all too familiar, and yet he hadn’t heard in so long. He quickly pulled his phone out of his pocket, Master Of Puppets playing loudly from it. “Fuck- I’ll be right back Sam. Also- you didn’t hear me use that word.” Joe slipped out of his bed and hurried from the room, answering his phone quickly. “Hey,” he said with a tired tone, “what is it?”

“Hey, so I have practice in like- thirty minutes. You gonna pick me up?” Pete said it more like a order but it it was still a question. “Remember, I’m fucking paying you.”

“You’re not fucking paying me, you’re just letting me use your car if I need it,” Joe shot back, and then sighed, “But yeah whatever. I’ll come. Am I just supposed to walk to your house since your car is there?”

Pete sighed, “Same thing.” He walked over to his window and looked out at his car parked on the driveway. “Yeah, it’s not that far, and you can drive it back home from now on.” 

Joe sighed and spoke sarcastically, “Yeah like five miles isn’t that far to walk at all.” He glanced at the clock and frowned, “how long before you need me there?”

“It doesn’t really matter, I guess, and the guys can wait. They’re used to me being late.” Pete sat on his windowsill and sighed. “Just- Get here as soon as possible.”

Joe sighed and nodded. “Alright, I’m coming.” He hung up the phone without another word and ran back to his room to grab his shoes. “Hey Sam, do your best, and I’ll be back later okay?”

Sam looked down at the paper and groaned. The problems just looked like mumbled of lines and numbers stacked on top of each other but he sighed, and picked up his pencil to try solving the mess anyway. 

Joe ran downstairs and opened the door to see Andy’s car pulling up with Patrick inside too. He frowned in confusion and slowly walked over as Andy and Patrick got out. “Hey I wasn’t expecting you guys,” he said slowly, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Yeah we- thought we’d come over,” Andy shut the car door behind him. “Were you going somewhere?” Andy raised half his brow.

Joe nodded slowly. “Yeah. Pete's.”

Patrick frowned and looked at Andy expectantly.

“Joe-“ Andy sighed. “Pete’s manipulative,” he said rather bluntly, “and he’s using you. You’re really gonna let him use you?” Andy glanced at Patrick than back at Joe who was still standing on the steps outside the door.

Joe frowned and looked down. He felt like the Pete he had spent a year with and this Pete were two different people. But something inside Joe needed to know if his Pete was still in there. And Joe knew that someday, when the time was right, he would finally make Pete tell him why. Because Joe knew he could never let go until he knew why. Why Pete had stopped loving him. “I know he’s manipulative. But maybe I am too. Maybe I have my own game and I’m playing him.” Joe responded bluntly before grabbing his bike and running down the driveway, peddling off after he hopped on.

“He’s fucking crazy. He’s gone insane. Andy- Joe’s crazy,” Patrick said with shock and confusion, shaking his head.

“Yeah-“ Andy leaned against his car, “he is.” They watched as the little figure of Joe peddled away and out of sight.

After about fifteen minutes, Joe peddled up to Pete's house and threw his bike into the yard, trudging up to Pete's door and ringing the bell. He waited a moment, and when no one answered the door, he rung the bell three more times in a row.

Pete slung a case of amplifiers over his shoulder and held some sort of wound up cord in his mouth and opened the door. “I’ll give you the address,” he said quickly through his gritted teeth. He brushed past Joe and set the supplies in the back and slid into the passenger seat.

Joe trudged over to the car and got into the front. “Keys?” He questioned, holding his hand out to Pete.

Pete held out his hand dropped a pair keys into Joe’s open palm. “It’s at Adam’s place. I'm sure they’re already waiting.” Pete told Joe the address and slouched back into the passenger seat.

Joe rolled his eyes and started the car, pulling out of the driveway. “Okay, Mr ‘I’m Entitled To Everyone And Everything’.” Joe just shook his head as he drove, wondering how this boy was ever something he loved. “Would you like me to break the speed limit for you too? I’m sure you feel entitled enough to ask me to do that as part of my job.”

“All I asked was for you to drive,” Pete said sharply, looking away from Joe.

Joe just laughed a little and continued to drive. “All right then.” He felt a little bad for being an ass. He didn’t realize Pete would get so uncomfortable so fast. But suddenly Pete didn’t really seem like some master manipulator. He honestly just seemed like some stupid dude who really just wanted to get to his fucking band’s practice. When Joe finally got there, he pulled up and stopped the car. “So I guess I’ll just wait out here until you guys are done?”

Pete popped the door open a bit and let one leg hand out before thinking. “I guess you can if you don’t have anywhere to be or-“ he slid the rest of his body out of the car, “or I guess you could use the car to go wherever.” He left the passenger door open while he grabbed his stuff from the back then leaned back on the side of the car when he came back.

 

Joe shrugged, “I’ll just wait. How long are you guys going to be?” Joe didn’t really love the idea of waiting in Pete’s car a few hours, but also felt no motivation at all to go back home and then have to pick Pete up again shortly after that.

“Don’t know,” Pete shrugged, “depends on how long it takes.” Pete shut the door and with that, he walked up the steps to be immediately greeted by Adam with his guitar in his arms. Pete disappeared behind the closed door. 

Joe frowned deeply at the sight of Adam but shrugged it off. He settled into the back of the car, grabbing his homework out of his backpack that he had brought. He turned the car radio on quietly to play music in the background while he worked on his english homework. Joe must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he remembered was a loud knocking on the car window and an annoyed looking Pete, standing outside in the dark with his bass in one hand. Joe unlocked the door quickly, climbing back into the front. “Sorry,” he apologized as Pete opened the back door, “what time is it?”

“Like, eleven or something,” Pete shut the trunk of the car and hopped in. He slouched back into his seat and pulled the mirror down to cover the hickey on his neck with the hood of his hoodie. “Why do you need to follow mommy’s bedtime rules?”

Joe hadn’t neglected to notice the hickey on Pete’s neck, and he assumed Pete had been doing a little more than band practice to have taken that long. He sighed and shoved the keys into the car, “because she’s my mom, and she’s legally in charge of me, and I live in her house therefore I have to follow her rules? Plus, I like actually care about my parents and I don’t mind following their rules, which are completely reasonable,” Joe retorted at Pete with disgust. He wanted to say something like ‘maybe if you were more like me your parents wouldn’t get mad at you all the time’, but he didn’t. “Anyways don’t complain about it. It’s your fucking fault for losing your license,” Joe sighed as he pulled away from Adam’s house and began to head back towards Pete’s.

Pete rolled his eyes, “you’ve always been a momma’s boy.” He propped his legs on the dashboard.

“Fuck off,” Joe muttered under his breath with a hint of anger. “You know the best thing about my mom? She really fucking loves me. And no matter what I do, she’ll never stop loving me. And she certainly won’t stop loving me for no reason and never give me an explanation.” Joe sighed at the end, his eyes set duly on the road ahead, “that’s one person at least who I don’t have to worry about screwing me over.”

Pete stayed silent for a while and glanced at the clock in the car, watching as one minute went by before speaking up. “Didn’t know a chauffeur came with a side of whatever this is.”

Joe sighed. “Damn, I’m sorry I was talking. I’ll keep my mouth shut from now on if that’s what makes you happy.”

“Maybe it would,” Pete said simply, “I asked for a trip home not a guilt trip.”

Joe raised an eyebrow. “Guilt trip? I wasn’t-“ Joe stopped. He was being an ass, wasn’t he? “Sorry.” After another few minutes, Joe pulled up at Pete's place. Joe got out along with Pete so that he could load his bike into the back of Pete's car. As Pete was going up to his door, Joe turned around and looked at Pete, “Hey Pete?”

Just as Pete grabbed the doorknob he stopped. “Yeah?”

Joe sighed. “I uh… I’m glad that you were able to get what you wanted. You know, your own band and shit and- Adam and-“ Joe hoped Pete didn’t think he was talking bullshit. Deep down Joe really did want the best for Pete. Because deep down, Joe was still in love with him. “I’m glad that you’re happy.” He said before shutting the back door of the car, his bike safely inside, “and from now on I’ll just keep my mouth shut and drive you wherever you ask like a good, silent chauffeur who keeps his opinions to himself.”

Pete dropped his hand off the doorknob and let out a deep breath. “You don’t have to stay silent. Just- fuck-“ Pete was getting visually aggravated with himself. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Joe shrugged casually. “You didn’t upset me. I guess I just get defensive when people tease me about being close to my mom. I’m fine though. Anyways I’ve got to go, sleep well. Text me when you need me again.” Joe have a short wave, getting into the car without another word and starting it, driving off down the street quickly.

Joe got home five minutes before midnight. He hurried inside and locked the door behind him, tiptoeing into his room upstairs and shutting his bedroom door. He flipped on his lamp switch so the room was filled with a soft, warm light. Setting down Pete’s keys on his desk, he slowly walked to the closet and opened the door. Pushing aside some of his hanging clothes, he revealed a dusty looking bass, leaning against the wall. He hadn’t touched it in more than a year. His first urge was to reach out and pick it up, but instead he grabbed a shoebox from the floor beside it and the jacket that was folded up neatly on top of the shoebox. Joe slowly shut the closet door and walked back to his bed, sitting down softly. He took the jacket first, unfolding it carefully and holding it to his nose as he inhaled slowly. A familiar scent filled his nostrils. A scent he could only describe as happiness, love, security. He gently slipped the jacket on and a dull aching began to grow in his chest. He felt warm, but it was a strange kind of warm. A kind of ‘I’m missing something, but this will have to do’ kind of warm. After a while, he picked up the shoebox. He stared at it a while- he wasn’t sure how long- but he finally, slowly removed the lid and set it aside. A wave of emotions rushed through his body as soon as he looked down into the box. There was a stack of polaroids, a graduation tassel, a picture frame that held a chest x-ray, a few bass picks, a lock of black hair, a couple bracelets, an eyeliner pencil, and a few other various items. Joe grabbed the lid and quickly put it back on, taking the box and shoving it far back into his closet. He removed the jacket and tossed it on top of the box, shutting his closet door and taking a deep breath. There were tears sliding down his face. He wiped them away and tried to pretend the stabbing pain in his chest wasn’t there. So Joe undressed and curled up under his covers like he did every night. Only tonight wasn’t like every night. It was like his old nights. Because tonight he woke up trembling again, spluttering and choking for breath, shaking in dizziness and not knowing if he was awake or asleep. There was no one to hold him. No one to tell him he was okay. No one to assure him it had just been a nightmare. And Joe had a feeling they were back for good, his nightmares. Almost as if his mom’s conversation from the morning before had been predictory. But Joe wouldn’t tell anyone, why bother? Nothing could fix him anyways. He was already too fucked.


	4. Hate Me Baby, Maybe I'm A Piece Of Art

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aye here yah go! Shoutout to Charis because she's fucking amazing and I love her and she's the best co-writer ever <3 Also all the andtrick in this fanfic is for Nathan because I love him <3

Joe arrived at school the normal time, but unlike usual, Pete wasn’t waiting at Joe’s locker with that big grin like he did every morning. Joe avoided eye contact with anyone in the hall as he opened his locker, shoving his backpack inside it, only taking out his books for first period. When he shut his locker and turned around, a group of kids were snickering at him. He looked down to walk past them but they shoved him back against his locker and made a circle around him. 

“Going somewhere, faggot?” One asked with a laugh. 

Joe opened his mouth to say something but then shut it, wishing more than anything that they would just get bored of him and leave him alone. 

“What’s that Trohman? Have something to say?” Another spat.

Joe looked up with a bit of terror in his eyes, “I- I- I- I’m going to be late to class-” he managed to squeak out, which caused the bullies to snicker in return.

“Sorry I couldn’t quite understand you,” the first bully retorted, “I don’t speak gay.”

Joe frowned as tears came into his eyes and suddenly shoved at one of the bullies. “Fuck off.” He choked out.

The bully frowned and grabbed Joe by his shirt collar, shoving him against the locker angrily, “What did you just say to me Trohman?” He spat, his fist making hard contact with Joe’s stomach before Joe could respond. Joe let out a cry of pain and felt his anxiety skyrocketing, his mind racing to think of a way he could get himself out of this situation. Nothing came to him, and he could feel another fist making contact with him, this time his jaw. Joe stumbled to the floor and let out another cry. 

“Your gay senior friend isn’t here to save you now, is he?” One laughed as another began to throw kicks at Joe’s body.

Normally Joe would have at least put up a fight, but not today. He curled in on himself and began to hyperventilate through choked out sobs, pain shooting through his body with every blow, and all he could think was ‘when is this going to stop’.

“Do I need to translate what he said for you? He said fuck off before I make your ass sorry.” Pete stepped from around the corner with his binders cushioned under his arm. He practically dropped his supplies and in a few swift steps he had the one who was kicking Joe’s stomach against the wall. Pete was shorter than the bully but a harsh knee-kick to the crotch easily put him back in his place. Well- by ‘his place’ it was more like his spot on the tile floor wrenching as he held his pained crotch through his baggy jeans. Pete let go of the guy and when he turned around, the other two guys had left. “Hey Joe-” Pete stopped when Joe had disappeared as well, and Pete hoped the other two didn’t do something.

When Joe realized the kicking had ceased, he stumbled to his feet and fled down the hall almost faster than he knew he was capable of. He didn’t realize where he was going until he was in the bathroom, hiding behind the stalls, his knees pulled tightly to his chest. He buried his head in between his legs and body, still hyperventilating from before. He tried to take deep slow breaths, but it just got worse as he began to choke out sobs in between his breathing. His jaw was stinging, his whole body was probably bruised, and he was sure as heck going to be late to class. And what if the bullies found him in here?

“Joe?” Pete walked down the hall, his hand trailing down the white brick as he glanced at the vending machines for him. He continued down the hall until he heard shaky breathing and light sobs racking off the bathroom wall. Pete frowned to himself. Those fucking assholes. Pete stealthily walked in and peeking through the cracks of each stall until he found a small, trembling Joe in the corner. “Those bastards,” Pete said casually, trying not to make it seem like a big deal so Joe wouldn’t hyperventilate more than he already was. Pete slid down the wall until he was sitting criss-crossed beside him, his knee touching Joe’s hip. He placed a hand on the back of Joe's neck. There was a bruise forming there and Pete traced the purple outline of it gently with his fingers.

Joe hardly noticed Pete until he felt Pete’s knees against his hips. Joe felt humiliated that Pete had to see him like this, and wanted to say something, but it was all he could do to keep breathing. As Pete traced his fingers along Joe’s neck, Joe could feel his body slowly calming down. After a while, his breathing had slowed down to a slightly normal pace, and his sobbing had reduced to small sniffles.

“You’re okay,” Pete said softly as a reminder. “I’ll make sure to meet you at your locker every day from now on.” Just then, the bell had rung, leaving the bathroom with the echo bouncing off the walls. “Hey, Hey, it’s okay,” Pete quickly assured, grabbing Joe by the shoulders to face him, knowing Joe didn’t want to be late and the sound of the bell seemed to have caused him to shake a little again. “I’ll ask Mrs. Tipton for a pass. She’ll understand.” Pete moved his hand from Joe’s neck to his curly hair, it was done a little more neatly until Joe was kicked to the floor and Pete felt bad for him. 

Joe nodded slowly, taking a deep breath and shaking his head slowly. “I hate this place,” he whispered, wiping a tear from his face with the back of his hand. “I’m going to ask my mom if I can transfer,” he added shakily.

“I hope you mean after I graduate,” Pete let out a short laugh, “I’d miss you, and I love you, and I don’t want someone I love to leave.” Pete gently took hold of Joe’s jaw. There was a bruise there too. He ran the pad of his thumb over his tear-stained cheek before hesitantly leaning in and pressing his warm lips onto Joe’s salty ones from crying.

It took Joe a moment to register that he yes, Pete Wentz was kissing him. Joe placed a trembling hand on Pete’s shoulder as he kissed Pete back, his body slowly relaxing. And wait, did Pete say he loved Joe? Joe felt a warmness start from his chest and spread throughout his whole body. After a bit, he slowly pulled away from Pete, letting out a soft breath, “Pete…”

Pete looked at Joe, his lips still parted slightly. “Joe...” Pete imitated, then a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He moved his hand from Joe’s jaw and around his waist, soothing his hand over Joe’s sore skin. “We should- are you ready to head back?”

Joe smiled a little and slowly nodded, “Yeah, I guess.” He watched as Pete stood, and then took the hand Pete offered him. After heading out of the bathroom and back to Joe’s locker to collect their scattered books, Joe grabbed Pete’s arm before he could head off to his own class. “Hey Pete?”

“Mh hm?” Pete hummed in question, picking up one of Joe’s books and adding it to the stack. 

“You promise you’ll meet me at my locker from now on?” He knew Pete had already told him he would; Joe just wanted to make sure.

“Always,” Pete assured. He handed Joe the pass his teacher gave him and soothed his hand down Joe’s arm, gave his hand a squeeze than let go to get to his classroom.

Joe quickly leaned up to give Pete a soft kiss before pulling away with a blush and stumbling off down the hall to get to his class.

 

*****

 

A few week had gone by. It was the beginning of December now, and the crisp Chicago winter sent chills up Joe’s spine as he parked Pete's car, opening the door and stepping out into the school parking lot. He glanced a few of the other juniors glaring at him from a few yards away, but just ignored them and grabbed his backpack, shutting the car door and heading towards the school entrance. Once inside, he met Patrick by their lockers. 

“Drive again?” Patrick questioned, still not supportive of Joe’s decision to chauffeur Pete.

“Yep,” Joe sighed, closing his locker and shrugging. “It’s nice to not have to bike in the cold, or take the bus. If you ever need a ride I can pick you up too.”

“Nah I’m fine biking or taking the bus,” Patrick assured. He opened his mouth to say something but then closed it and frowned over Joe’s shoulder, gesturing his head so that Joe turned around to see some of their classmates walking up. They were the same group of boys who had been tormenting Joe for more than three years now. They seemed to always have most fun picking on Patrick and Joe together.

“Look who it is- Faggot One and Faggot Two,” one laughed.

“I see you got a new car. How’d you afford that? Didn’t know there was anyone around hiring gays,” another scoffed at Joe.

Joe just rolled his eyes and grabbed Patrick’s arm. “Let’s go,” he muttered, pulling Patrick away from the group of laughing boys. Once they were well away, Joe sighed and let go of Patrick. “I’ll see you at lunch,” he muttered and turned around, walking off to his own class.

 

Andy Hurley raised his fist, knocking three times loudly on Pete's door before stepping back to wait. He slowly tucked his arms into each other across his chest, waiting for Pete to answer the door. Patrick and he had agreed that he would have to confront Pete before things went too much further. If Pete actually planned on keeping Joe as his personal chauffeur for as long as he needed, they both feared it would ruin Joe. 

“Andy?”

Andy looked up, not realizing that Pete had came to the door. “We- uh- we need to talk.” Andy stepped up to the door but Pete stood between the frame and the door, blocking him. 

Pete glanced behind himself as if to check on something before walking out on the porch, closing the door securely behind him. “Make it quick,” Pete sighed, leaning against the red brick. 

“It’s about you and your little arrangement with Joe driving you,” Andy backed away from Pete a little and wiggled his piercing with his tongue in thought of what to say. “You just- you can’t find anyone else to drive you? Don’t you have your boyfriend to take you anywhere?” Andy cringed a little, shifting on his feet. 

The way Pete’s brow furrowed clearly showed annoyance. “No actually, Joe volunteered himself and it’s going to stay that way,” he said through grit teeth. After a moment, Pete’s face softened with a bit of amusement and he laughed a little, messing with the garden stake that stuck up from the flower pot on the porch railing. “Andy, did you really come over to my house just to say that?” He shook his head a little in a mute laugh. 

“Yes I did,” Andy retorted somewhat defensively. “Stop brushing this off like nothing. The kid has to go to school and he doesn’t have time to worry about dropping you off at Arma practice or wherever the hell you go.” 

“Yeah, and ‘the kid’ can use my car to drive himself to school. It’s a win-win, so I don't see why you’re coming to me like it’s a problem.” Pete rolled his head back against the door, sighing. 

Andy frowned deeply and clenched his teeth. “There you fucking go again, brushing it off like nothing-”

“Because it is nothing,” Pete cut him off.

“No actually, it’s not.” Andy leaned against the railing, frowning at with a bit of disgust. “You don’t realize what simply seeing you does to him. Did you know that maybe, just maybe, leaving someone with no explanation whatsoever hurts someone? Did you know that Pete? Did you? Does brushing it off like nothing not phase you at all? What, did you think that when Joe sees you with some other guy he doesn’t get hurt? Or do you brush that off like nothing now too?”

Pete glared. “You just asked like, six questions in one breath- and this doesn’t even concern you. I thought this was about him driving me, not this bullshit.” Pete diverted his eyes from Andy and messed with the garden stake buried in the flower pot on the porch railing. 

“Bullshit? That’s really what you consider this? God...” Andy rubbed his face with his hand. “You have to stop taking advantage of him.”

“He volunteered himself! Did I not say that already?” Pete shoved one hand into his hoodie pocket, the other still fidgeting with the garden stake. “This conversation is getting nowhere, so why the hell are you still at my doorstep?”

Andy was silent for a minute, ignoring Pete’s last question. “Joe may have volunteered, but he doesn’t realize what he’s doing. He impulsively said he would drive you because he still fucking cares about you. Unlike you showing any sign of giving a shit about him...” Andy eventually muttered, x-raying the ground below him. 

Pete took a deep breath, also choosing to ignore Andy’s comments. “I’m not getting someone else to take me just because you said so.” 

“You really don’t give a shit,” Andy thought out loud. “It’s always something with you. You’re so stubborn and secretive. You avoid every direct question and hide as if you’re scared I’ll realize something. Well I’ve got news- I realize you’re just an ass and there really is no reason for it. And what’s that mark on your neck?” Andy moved Pete’s hoodie strings away from where they wrapped, stoking his neck like a scarf. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that when I saw you. Did- what’s his face- Adam do that? You’re disgusting. Leaving Joe for that asshole.” Andy pulled the rest of Pete’s hood down and froze a little from where It revealed a dark purple and green blotch around Pete’s eye. No amount of harsh, rough trade could do that. It was obviously softer there, and Pete grimaced at the touch. “Pete what the-”

Pete quickly slung his hood back over his head with one hand. “It doesn’t concern you.” The sternness in Pete’s voice didn’t even waver as he pulled the hood down lower over his eyes. 

“God Pete- no guitar could ever do that. Is there something else I don’t know about Adam?” Andy raised his eyebrow, a wave of concern hitting him. 

“Fucking leave!” Pete spat, immediately getting defensive. He pulled the garden stake from the flower pot’s mulch and slung it across Andy’s face. “Stop assuming so much! You don’t know anything, dammit!” Pete turned back and slammed the door closely behind him, just as he had when Andy first arrived. 

Andy held his face where blood started to stream from his cheek. It took everything in him not to yank the stake from Pete’s hands and ram it into his spine. He knew he could if he wanted to. “You’re disgusting! What happened to you?” He spoke with a low growl forming in the back of his throat, but Pete was already gone. He shot Pete’s door a quick glare before trudging down the steps. The slam of his car door could probably be heard from around the whole block but he didn’t care. If Pete was going to be unreasonable, then he wasn’t going to talk to him. Maybe he’d just tell Joe to keep the car until Pete finally came to his senses. Andy pulled down the flip mirror to look at the three-inch cut across his face and he immediately regretted not shoving Pete against the brick and giving him a fist in the gut. But he drove off, swearing to himself he wouldn’t mention a word about Pete’s bullshit. That wave of concern wasn’t there anymore. That feeling was taken over by anger.

When school got out, Joe said goodbye to Patrick and headed to Pete’s car. Joe stopped in his tracks a few feet away, suddenly feeling nauseous. Across the side of the car, the lines of the silver undercoating beneath Pete’s original dark blue vehicle, scratched the word ‘faggot’ in jagged, sharp letters, probably done with a car key. It was deep, and extremely noticeable. “Fuck- crap- oh god-” Joe ran a shaky hand through his curls. Pete was literally going to kill him. Old Pete wouldn’t have gotten mad at Joe about something like that- New Pete would most likely jump at the chance to blame Joe for anything. Joe stood there for a while. There was nothing he could do to fix this before Pete saw. He had to pick Pete up in less than half an hour. So he slowly trudged to the car, getting inside and driving home. He dropped his backpack off in his room, walking to desk and opening the drawer. From the back he pulled out an envelope, frowning and tucking it into his coat. It was his savings. Almost $500 now. He supposed Pete would want it for fixing the damage. After that, he headed back to the car, starting to Pete's. Once he pulled up, he slowly climbed out and walked to the door, knocking hesitantly.

Pete groaned at the sound of the knocking echoing through the house. He cleared his makeup off the bathroom sink top and peered his head up at his reflection. The concealer covered his right eye pretty well considering he’d only used makeup only once before. When he heard another knock he trudged down the steps and swung the door open abruptly to find Joe with his knuckles still raised to knock again. “You’re early.” 

Joe frowned, his eyes scanning Pete's face. “What happened to your face…?” He asked hesitantly. The bruise didn’t look too bad, but it reminded Joe a little of the bruises he used to sport almost every week.

Pete frowned for a second, “practicing guitar slings didn’t go so well,” he shrugged a little but stayed inside. The shadow the door casted made the bruise less noticeable and Pete didn’t realize that it could still be seen. 

Joe nodded slowly and shifted on his feet. “Uh…” he glanced back at the car, and then slowly looked back at Pete. “Pete I’m sorry I- your car- I’m really fucking sorry.” Joe grimaced a little and stepped back, bracing himself.

Pete tried to look around the corner to see is car but couldn’t see anything wrong at first glance. He gave Joe an accusing look before stepping out of the house and onto the porch cement. “What the fuck did you do?”

“I…” Joe sighed, nervously running a hand through his curly dark hair, “...someone keyed it.”

Pete jostled Joe aside with one arm and walked around to where his car was parked. He stalked around the vehicle until he stopped at the drivers side. The word ‘faggot’ clearly etched into the enamel, revealing the silver behind the paint. “Shit,” Pete seethed, his expression was set into something that didn’t resemble anything distinctive, yet still managed to look baleful. Pete walked around the other side of the car to check if it was written anywhere else and shot a quick glance at Joe, who was standing on the sidewalk leading up to his front door with his head down. “How the fuck could you let this happen?” He asked bitterly.

Joe shifted a little. How the fuck did he let himself get beat to shit so often and how the fuck did he let himself be called so many names? How the fuck did he let these bullies get away with this? Yeah, he was weak. “I was in class. I didn’t see it happen,” Joe spoke solemnly.

Pete sighed, going back and running his fingers over the indention the letters made. “Do you have any idea how much it will cost to get this repaired?” He spoke crossly, kneeling off the ground.

“Will like, $500 be enough…?” Joe said hesitantly, slowly walking to the car beside where Pete was kneeling.

Pete looked up at Joe blankly. “Why, do you actually have that sort of money?”

Joe nodded slowly. “Yeah of course, it’s not even that much money,” he lied, shrugging casually.

For a moment Pete was quiet and chewed his lip. “Then you get it fixed,” he said quietly yet stern, “or at least pay for it to be.”

Joe nodded. “Will that cover it? Or is it going to cost more than that?” 

“Five-hundred should be enough,” Pete sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I swear to God, Trohman,” Pete shook his head.

Joe frowned and looked down, thinking of the guitar he was going to buy Sam for Christmas, and how now he wasn’t even going to be able to afford anything for anyone in his family. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry Pete. I didn’t mean for this to happen…” With a heavy heart, Joe pulled the envelope out of his jacket, opening it and counting out $480. He pulled it all out and handed it to Pete. “You probably know somewhere better to take it than I would. And one of your friends can go with you. I’m guessing you don’t really want me driving your car anymore. I have to get home.” Joe shoved his hands into his pockets and turned around, starting off down the sidewalk. 

Pete took the green stack and fumbled with it in the palm of his hand. He’d have to get either Adam or someone to take the vehicle down to the repair shop with him. He looked up from the money and glanced at the figure of Joe making his way down the sidewalk. “Damnit...” Pete spoke under his breath. But instead of going after Joe, he settled for going back inside to call his boyfriend and explain why he wouldn’t be at practice.

 

When Patrick got home from school, he smiled to see Andy waiting on his porch steps, dropping his bike in his yard and hopping off. But his smile dropped as soon as he saw the gash across Andy’s cheek. He sprinted to his side, dropping to his knees and placing a hand lightly on Andy’s cheek, “Andy what the fuck?” He gasped with horror, “who did this?”

Andy smiled weakly at Patrick. “I’m fine,” he assured. “Guess who actually tried to talk to Pete?” Andy’s smiled dropped. He didn’t think he’d actually bring it up but he quickly changed the subject. “How was school?”

“What? School was fine. You talked to Pete today? What did he say? Is he going to leave Joe alone? Did Pete do this to you Andy? Did he hurt you?” Patrick asked all in a flurry, his eyes wide as he examined Andy’s scar and caressed him gently, his stomach turning in knots.

“Woah,” Andy forced out a short laugh, “slow down.” Andy winced when Patrick lightly caressed his face. Even the slightest touch stung so he grabbed Patrick’s hand away from the wound and held it, talking in a deep breath. “Yes, I talked to Pete today and to sum it up: no, he didn’t agree to leave Joe alone.” Andy tried to stay calm and avoided the last part of Patrick’s fast questions.

Patrick frowned. “Pete’s a fucking ass.” He slowly leaned his head against Andy’s chest and closed his eyes. “Are you okay? Do you need stitches? Do you want me to go to ER with you?”

“I don’t think that’ll be needed, ‘Trick,” Andy placed his hand on Patrick’s back and soothed his thumb in circles though his shirt. 

Patrick frowned a little, pulling away and looking at Andy’s face again. He could sense Andy didn’t want to talk about whatever had happened. “Okay.” He sighed and placed a hand lightly on Andy’s unscarred cheek. “Will anything make you feel better? A movie? Vegan icecream?”

Andy’s lips curled at the sides into a light smile. “How about both? Ice cream and a movie?”

Patrick nodded slowly and stood up, Andy standing up beside him. “Will you stay with me tonight?” He asked, almost pleading. 

Andy held Patrick’s hand, “Of course.” The walked into the warmth of the house and as Andy slid the freezer open he grabbed a whole carton of dairy-free ice cream and brought it to the couch where Patrick had set out a camouflage pattern blanket.

Patrick sighed as Andy came and joined him on the couch, starting Star Wars, which he knew would make Andy Happy. “I love you,” He mumbled, cuddling into Andy’s side. 

The light of changing colors as the movie started shone on their faces and Andy pressed his lips on Patrick’s. “I love you too,” he mumbled then as he pulled away he slid a spoonful of ice cream into Patrick’s parted mouth. “Now eat before I get carried away and eat the whole thing,” he laughed.

Patrick grinned and took the spoon from Andy, licking off the rest of the ice cream. “Andy your ice cream is disgusting,” he stated, but he was smiling still.

Andy laughed softly. “You get used to it, I guess,” he shrugged.

Patrick just laughed again and stuck the spoon back in, scooping some up and feeding a bite to Andy. They carried on like this for a bit. Sharing the ice cream- and spoon- and watching the movie. And Patrick couldn’t imagine his life without Andy. He really couldn’t. He loved him too much.

 

Joe had walked straight home after dropping off Pete's car back at Pete's place. He had found Sam slouched over some homework on his bed, and sighed, thinking this kid was always too focused on his homework. “C’mon, get your coat Sam. Let’s go get some burgers, yeah? And a milkshake.” So they’d ended up at their favorite local shake shop, sitting across from each other and casually discussing the new Iron Man comic. Joe was just sticking another fry into his mouth when he happened to glance out the window and see Pete walking by with his hands shoved into his hoodie pocket. What the fuck? Hopefully he wasn’t coming in. But just as Joe thought that, of course Pete curved into the entrance and pushed open the door. How the hell did Pete know he was here? Of course, his mom. Pete must’ve stopped by. Probably needed a ride somewhere and couldn’t find anyone else. Joe sighed as he saw Pete looking around and then spot them. That pathetic grin that spread across Pete's face as he started towards them just made Joe lose his appetite and set the fry back down. As Pete got to them, he slid into the booth beside Sam, squishing him a bit, and reached into the fry basket, grabbing a handful and shoving a few into his mouth. 

“Order your own fucking food,” Joe spat, slapping at Pete's hand so that he dropped the rest of the fries. 

Pete licked the salt off his fingers and shrugged one shoulder. “Not that hungry.” 

Sam avoided looking at Pete and shot a glance at Joe as he set done his half eaten burger. He gave Joe that ‘am I supposed to do something?’ face as he was practically pushed up against the side of the booth. 

“You do realize that I still need someone to drive me, right?” Pete said offhandedly. 

Joe sighed with annoyance. “Didn’t think you’d want me near your car again after today,” he admitted, glancing at Sam and shrugging his shoulders a little bit.

“Yeah, you fucked up,” Pete muttered slowly, turning his gaze onto the white tile floor, “but I still need a ride nonetheless.” 

Joe let out a short laugh and shook his head. “Yeah I fucked up for being gay, didn’t I?” He glanced at Sam and frowned, his little brother still squished uncomfortably between Pete and the wall. “Pete, couldn’t you have just called me instead of ruining my evening with my brother?” 

“No, you fucked up because you let someone ruin my car,” Pete said it almost in as casual way, the only hint that he was mad was the short moment where his teeth clenched. He completely ignored Joe’s last words.

Joe rolled his eyes. “Yeah because I could have definitely prevented that…” he sighed and ran a hand through his curls, a habit when he was stressed. “Pete can you go? I’ll drive you wherever you want tomorrow. I’m just trying to spend time with my brother right now, if you can’t see-” Joe gestured to the squashed Sam, “and you’re killing him a little bit.”

“How is some douche keying your car my brother’s fault?” Sam spoke suddenly, his voice cracking at the end. He wanted Pete to leave too but Pete was aggravating him, and staying silent like he originally planned just wasn’t settling with him. Sam wriggled out from the booth so he was now standing a couple feet away from the table, looking at Pete with a visual stutter tugging at his jaw as if he had more to say but left it at that. 

Pete turned to look up at the younger boy looking down at him. Pete twisted his lip, “Someone’s got a little defender.”

Joe’s face turned red and he stood up quickly. “Let’s go home Sam,” he grabbed Sam’s arm and started to pull him towards the exit, leaving their half eaten food with Pete. 

“Joe- you know it’s true,” Sam protested and started to pull his arm out of his jacket sleeve to escape Joe’s grip but stopped when he looked back at Pete. Joe was right, maybe it was best if they left.

Joe let go of Sam’s arm, stalking back to where Pete was still sitting at the table. “Next time, call. I don’t fucking appreciate you stalking me, and I sure as hell don’t appreciate you ruining my evenings and invading my privacy. You’re not part of my life anymore,” Joe shoved his finger into Peter's chest angrily, “you’re just some douche I’m driving around. And you’re the one who’s made that clear. So don’t come around. If you need me, call!” Joe pulled away before Pete could react and walked back to the door, taking Sam’s arm gently, but firmly, and pulling him out the door. 

Sam left the burger joint with Joe and glanced back through the glass door. But when he looked back, Pete wasn’t sitting at the booth. He had exited through the other door and Sam sure hoped Pete wasn’t walking back around the building to find them. “Let’s hurry,” Sam said in attempt to sound casual. He was the one pulling Joe now. He slid into the vehicle and sighed, leaning against the inside of the door. “It’s okay Joe. I should’ve been doing my homework anyway,” Sam mumbled calmly from the seat.

Joe opened his mouth to respond, but ended up closing it, gripping the steering wheel of his mom’s car tightly. “Damnit-” he choked out, tears now streaming down his face. And he didn’t trust himself to say anything more without having a complete breakdown.

Sam sunk back into the cushion of the car seat. He watched as a tear landed on Joe’s lap and soaked into his jeans. “Joe it’s really o-“ Sam cut himself off, realizing that those tears probably weren’t all because of how their dinner was ruined. So Sam stayed quiet, bringing his legs up on the side of the seat.

Joe just slowly took a deep breath, letting the tears stream down his cheeks for a while. He took a shuddering breath and let out another choked sob, shaking his head. “It- it’s like he’s a different person-” Joe covered his face and shook his head again, wiping at the tears, “God, I’m sorry Sam. I should get you home, I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to watch my mental fucking breakdown.” Joe shoved the keys quickly into the ignition and started the car.

Sam shook his head a little. He didn’t want his brother driving if he had his eyes blocked from tears. “It’s fine,” Sam spoke almost inaudibly, not knowing what to say.

Joe just shook his head and began to drive, arriving at home a few minutes later. “You still need help with homework?” He asked Sam tiredly, his eyes still a little red.

“No,” Sam said drowsily. He hung his jacket on the holder by the door and trudged up to his room. His papers were still all over his bed but he quickly shoved them away in his book bag.

Joe sighed and followed Sam up the stairs, peeking into Sam’s room. “Goodnight kid,” he said quietly before going to his own room and shutting the door.


	5. Stuck On A Little Hot Mess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We finally finished our Christmas chapter right on time for Christmas! The best way to celebrate the holidays is a good wentzman fic for sure, so Merry Christmas to all and enjoy the read!
> 
> Also I apologize for no Andy and Patrick in this chapter, it's just my brain is too dead to try and incorporate them in there somehow.

Joe sat in front of the fireplace, watching as the flames slowly began to die away. He could hear the soft voices of his parents and his aunt and uncle drifting in from the dining room, only talking in hushed tones because his little brother had already gone to bed. He glanced at the sparkling Christmas tree, with all the torn up wrapping paper strewn about underneath it, and sighed, knowing that Christmas was coming to a close. But he still had one thing to look forward too…

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the familiar pair of headlights pull up outside and the soft lulling noise of the engine slowly shut off. Joe smiled, standing up and hurrying upstairs to his room. Of course, by the time he got there, Pete was already hanging off his window with a grin, waiting for Joe to open it. Joe immediately shut his bedroom door and hurried to the window, swinging it open. “Merry Christmas Panda,” he murmured and pressed his lips against Pete's through the open window. 

Pete started to climb through the window, not breaking the kiss as he felt his way over the sill. Once Pete made it into the room he wrapped his arms around Joe’s waist to pull him closer. “Merry Christmas, Duck Hunt,” Pete whispered as he pulled away, their noses still touching. He held Joe’s arm as he led them to the edge of Joe’s bed and sat down. His other hand was tucked into his open jacket. “I got you something but- promise me you won’t laugh,” Pete started to move his hand from its spot hiding under his jacket.

“I’ll try not to laugh,” Joe smiled softly, waiting to see what Pete had got him with some anticipation. 

Pete moved his hand out of the warmth of his jacket. He pulled out a small frame but handed it to Joe face down. He bit his lip, being a little nervous about how pathetic it now seemed in his mind. Pete wasn’t really sure about how he felt about the black and white chest film x-ray. He even went through the trouble of pretending he was having chest pains just so his doctor would give him the x-ray scan. Once Joe flipped the frame over, Pete hid his face a little. “It’s an x-ray...of my heart,” Pete laughed quietly with a little shrug. “Actually if you look closely you can see the words ‘property of Joe Trohman’ written on the middle of my heart,” Pete joked, pointing to where the picture depicted the outline of his heart. 

Joe felt a tug at his heart and opened his mouth to say something but ended up closing it again, too afraid he would cry. He gazed at x-ray of Pete's heart, gently running his finger across it, and then slowly looking back up at Pete, tears at the edges of his eyes. “Pete…” he whispered, his voice catching at the end. Joe had never realized someone as amazing as Pete would ever love someone as boring and unimportant as him. Joe slowly set the picture on the bed beside him, reaching out to cup Pete's face with his hands. “I love it,” he smiled and let out a short breath, one of the tears escaping his eye and slipping down his cheek, “I love you.” Joe pressed his lips back against Pete’s and kissed him softly.

Pete wiped the tear away with his thumb and moved his lips with Joe’s. “I love you too,” he mumbled between the kiss. When Pete pulled away he frowned a little. “Why are you crying?” He asked softly

“I’m sorry…” Joe mumbled, “I just- I never thought someone could love me like this.” Joe took a shuddering breath and caressed Pete’s face gently, looking into Pete’s beautiful hazel eyes.

Pete laughed a little, “I don’t see why someone couldn’t.” He shifted so their hips were touching and he pulled them down until the were lying against each other in the bed.

Joe pressed his lips against Pete's again for a bit before pulling away. “My present isn’t nearly as good as that one…” he said apologetically, wrapping his arms around Pete's torso and resting his head against Pete's shoulder.

Pete smiled a bit and pressed his cheek against the top of Joe’s head. “I’m sure I’ll love it,” he said honestly.

Joe sat up slowly and sighed, running his hands through his curls as he walked over to his desk and grabbed a large, square shaped flat package. He handed it to Pete and watched as Pete tore the paper off to reveal a hand signed Metallica vinyl. “I didn’t know if you already have that one but… if you do it’s okay, you don’t have to keep it.”

Pete traced his fingers down the side of the red and black vinyl case, admiring the silver signatures on the front. “Joe this is- holy shit-” he set the vinyl down on the bed and stood up, wrapping his arms around Joe, cradling him against his body. “God, I love you.”

Joe wrapped his arms back around Pete, pressing his face into Pete's neck. “I love you too.” And it was almost too good to be true. The two of them, holding each other, so in love, everything perfect. But Joe believed in it. For a moment of eternity, he really did believe in it.

 

*****

 

“How long is this going to take?” Joe snapped as Pete came out the door. When Pete walked straight past Joe to the car and didn’t answer, Joe frowned deeper. “Pete! How long are we going to be out? How far away is this gig?”

Pete rolled his eyes, “maybe a couple hours,” he guessed, getting settled into the car seat, “Maybe more, I don’t know.”

Joe frowned. “There’s a snowstorm on the forecast Pete,” he muttered as he slid into the driver’s side and started the car, “what if we get stuck there? I’m not driving this car if the weather gets out of hand.”

“Then let's hurry past the storm,” he ordered. Pete looked out the window. It was late morning but vaguely overcast so when Joe started the vehicle, the headlights shone on the light falling sleet sticking on the hood. 

Joe sighed and began to drive, turning up the heat to keep them both warm. “Today is the last day of Hanukkah. My mom is going to be angry that I left…” he trailed off with a sigh.

“It’s just one day,” Pete pointed with ignorance. He leaned against the middle console and pulled his hood over his head. “One day shouldn’t be that big of a deal.” 

“It’s not just a day-” Joe argued back pointlessly, “It’s the last day of Hanukkah Pete. You should know how much it means to my family…”

Pete didn’t say anything but curled up against the console to warm up, pulling his arms into his hoodie and sighing.

Joe didn’t care that much if he was being completely honest. It was more the fact that Pete didn’t give a shit that bothered him. But he let Pete sit in silence as they drove. It was already beginning to snow softly. 

It wasn’t until an hour into the drive that the real blizzard really hit. Visibility was low, the snow was piling up, and Joe was starting to freak out. “Pete,” he breathed as his heart was racing, “Pete this is insanity. There’s no way we can make it. I can’t-” Joe could feel the car sliding a little and grimaced, gripping the steering wheel and trying to maintain control. The vehicle slid across the sheet of ice covering the road and slid sideways, blocking the lane, when Joe drove over a slight dip in the road. 

Pete squinted his eyes through the heavy snowfall, perking up when he could make out a pair of headlights heading down the opposite lane towards them, obviously struggling to hold onto steering control just as they were. “Shit!” Pete sprawled across to grasp the wheel in his own hands and jerked the car over onto the side of the road with a screech. He let go of the wheel and slouched back into the passenger seat, letting out a sigh.

Joe put the car into park and let go of the wheel. After his breathing was back to normal, he closed his eyes and leaned back, the shock finally beginning to wear off. “What now?” He finally asked, looking over at Pete slowly.

“We wait?” Pete guessed. He started to lean against the window but pulled back when the freezing glass stung his face. “Book a hotel?”

Joe pondered for a moment. “How would we get to a hotel? And do you have enough money for one? Because I sure as hell don’t.” He ran a hand slowly through his curls, knowing his mom was probably going to start freaking out soon and call him. Not that his phone would get any reception in this storm.

Pete sighed, “what do you expect us to do? We can wait for the storm to pass and if we have to, we can sleep in here.” Pete folded his arms to keep warm, “forget the gig,” he mumbled bitterly. 

Joe sighed, “No you’re right, we should get somewhere safe, and warm.” Joe zipped up his jacket and adjusted his scarf. “The only way we’re gonna get to a hotel is by walking…”

Pete shot Joe a strange look before palming the door for the handle. Without saying anything, Pete pushed the door open with a little force since it was frozen shut. He stepped out and winced slightly from the sharp cold.

Joe followed Pete, locking the car securely behind them and making it to where Pete was without slipping. “Which way?” He yelled above the howling wind, pulling his scarf tightly over his face.

Pete pulled his hoodie over his head tightly and jammed his hands in his pockets. “Straight ahead,” he called, peering through the clouds of snow and sleet, “there’s an intersection nearby with a couple inns.” He started down the side of the road carefully so he wouldn’t slip.

Joe shuffled along behind Pete, slipping a few times but catching himself. Once they reached the intersection, Joe grabbed Pete's arm and pointed to a small hotel on the side of the road. “Let’s check there?” He yelled out.

Pete just nodded and started toward the building, practically dragging Joe behind him. He pushed the doors open, the warm air feeling comforting to his skin, and leaned against the front counter to wait for somebody.

Joe caught his breath as they got inside and he followed Pete to the counter, standing behind him awkwardly. After a moment someone finally came to check them in, informing them there were a few rooms open, but the cost of a one bedroom was $50 a night. Joe frowned and pulled his scarf down, “Do you have that much cash?” He whispered to Pete.

Pete pursed his lips and pulled out torn leather wallet. “Fifty exact,” he frowned and pulled out the three bills from the wallet. He set them down on the counter and slid it over to the receptionist. “It’s better than sleeping out in a freezing car.”

Joe nodded slowly and watched as the man slid the room key across to Pete. After Pete took it and started outside to find their room, Joe followed him close, stumbling into the room behind Pete once they found it, and quickly closing the door. Of course Pete had only worn a hoodie, but Joe had on his warmest coat, which his mother had made sure he had worn. He peeled it off and dropped it to the ground, sighing and letting his shoulders droop. Pulling out his phone, he walked to the window and glanced outside into the storm before sliding down against the wall. He dialed his mom’s number, but of course the call didn’t go through. He sighed and just closed his eyes. “You can take the bed.”

Pete glanced at Joe from where he had started pulling off his hoodie In front of the mirror, “staying on the floor?” He raised an eyebrow but quickly shrugged it off. Pete looked back at the mirror and threw his hoodie back down over his stomach when pulling it up revealed the slight outline of a yellow bruise. It was too cold anyway. He sat on the edge of the bed then curled up on the pillow, frowning at the way Joe held his phone to his chest with his head tilted back and eyelids curtaining his view. Pete twisted his lip before speaking, “Sorry about this. Not going as planned and all.”

Joe slowly opened his eyes. “It’s not your fault… anyways I’m the one who should be sorry. You missed your gig because I’m not a good driver.” Joe glanced away and shivered, pulling his knees to his chest and sighing. 

“I still kinda took you away from your family,” Pete sighed, “actually, not kinda- I did.” Pete turned over on his side and messed with the hem of the pillow. “And you do realize that you don’t have to stay on the floor, y’know.” 

Joe sighed and sat there for a while longer before slowly standing up and making his way to the bed. He slid in on the other opposite side of Pete, his back pressed against Pete’s as he pulled the covers snuggly up to his chin. “I don’t think they could have made this bed smaller.”

Pete laughed dryly, “guess that’s what fifty dollars offers.” Pete tugged the covers up a little and let one leg hang off the side.

Joe lay in silence for a while, listening to the sound of Peter's soft breathing. “So what’re you doing for Christmas?” He asked softly, not knowing if he should attempt to make conversation, but strangely uncomfortable with the silence.

“I’m-” Pete twisted his lip into a frown though he knew Joe couldn’t see his expression, “I don’t think I’m doing anything.” The shrug on Pete’s shoulders could be felt through the sheets.

Joe frowned a little and felt a small pang in his heart. “Your family isn’t doing anything at all?” He asked curiously and even with a bit of concern.

“We haven’t done anything for Christmas in awhile,” he mumbled honestly, “there's no need to, I guess, now that we’re all older.”

Joe recalled two years ago Pete had been really vague about what his family was doing for Christmas too. He felt a another pang and sighed. “Maybe you could spend Christmas with Adam?” He offered the idea tiredly.

“That’s what he wants,” Pete said casually, a slight dullness in his voice, “and it’s probably where I’ll end up for Christmas.” Pete shifted a little under the covers. “Fuck- he’s gonna be pissed at me for missing the gig,” Pete though out loud.

Joe shrugged, “he doesn’t have a right to. Besides, I doubt anyone would have showed up in this weather. I’m sure it will be fine, Adam will live. And if he really loves you he won’t be pissed. He’ll understand.” Joe sighed and snuggled further under the covers, Pete's body heat warming him up. 

Pete lay there stiff and silently for what seemed like a solid minute as if thinking- either that or he was dozing off. He pulled the leg that was hanging over the side of the bed back up and under the covers before clearing his throat, “I guess.”

Joe sensed something off, but didn’t push the subject further. “I still have to get something for Sam…” Joe smiled sadly to himself, “he wanted me to teach him some guitar and stuff, and I was going to get him one but…” Joe just stopped and exhaled slowly.

“But...?” Pete asked softly but then spoke again before Joe could answer. “There’s a guitar and equipment store near your place.”

“Yeah I know. I was gonna get one there. One of their new models. I just didn’t… I couldn’t really afford anything I had to do some other uh… more import stuff. You know…” Joe shifted uncomfortably. He wished he hadn’t brought it up. He didn’t want to make Pete guilty or uncomfortable. “There’s always a next year,” he added with a strained sound in his voice.

Pete shut his eyes and frowned to himself. “Yeah...” he whispered under his breath, “Sam deserves a good guitar.” He said it more to himself, as if taking note of it, than to Joe. Pete rubbed his feet together under the sheets awkwardly. “I should have just covered the scratch with tape or something...” Pete mumbled unexpectedly, laughing sadly.

Joe’s eyes widened, mentally punching himself for bringing up the topic in the first place. It seems like he was bringing up all the uncomfortable things without even meaning to. He sat up quickly and frowned, “Pete I didn’t fucking mean- I wasn’t-“ he sighed in frustration, “I wasn’t trying to make you feel guilty. It’s not your fault- I should never have thought it was a good idea to bring your car to school. I’m just a fucking idiot. And besides, my mom says part of growing up is learning to take responsibility for your actions, even if you have to sacrifice something else for it…” he frowned and shook his head, “just forget I said anything okay? It’s not your fault.”

Pete turned on his other side and pulled Joe’s shoulder to face him. “It’s okay,” he put simply, trying to get that through Joe’s mind. “I mean- it’s not okay that I took that money but it’ll just- it’ll be okay.” Pete turned back over away from Joe and let out a breath.

Joe’s breathing hitched a little when Pete touched his shoulder but Joe shook it off. He lay back down slowly and curled under the covers. “It is what it is,” he sighed and closed his eyes, “goodnight Peter.”

Pete closed his eyes and settled into the warmth of the sheets. “Night.”

Joe didn’t say anything else but just lay in silence until he eventually fell asleep. It might’ve been three or four hours later when Joe woke with a start, sweat covering his forehead as he gasped for breaths, whimpering. He stumbled out of the bed, the room frigid without the covers to keep him warm. He walked to the wall, crying softly and leaning into it, banging his head quietly but almost harshly against the wall, over and over. ‘It’s just a nightmare’ a voice inside his head whispered, but he wasn’t listening to it. Something inside him reminded him to be quiet or he would wake up Pete, but other than that, he was disconnect from reality.

Pete stirred in his sleep from where he slept lightly across the room, eventually sitting up without making a sound. He palmed the spot next to him for Joe but frowned when he didn’t feel his sleeping body beside him. “Joe?” He mumbled, his voice groggy from sleep. He squinted over to where he could make out the figure of Joe enveloped in the dark near the wall. He draped the top cover behind him and over his shoulders, dragging it across the floor as he made his way over Joe’s figure against the wall. As he got closer, he could make out the sound of quiet sobs racking Joe’s body. “Joe are you- what’s going on?” He spoke gingerly, placing a hesitant hand on Joe’s shaking back and still not completely aware of what was going on from just waking up.

Joe flinched under Pete's touch, as it brought him back to reality. At first he wanted to snap at Pete not to touch him, but had to remind himself it wouldn’t be fair to Pete. “I’m fine,” he whispered, not turning away from the wall, sniffling as his face blushed bright red with embarrassment. 

“That didn’t really look like ‘fine’,” Pete murmured, slowly letting his arm slide off Joe’s back. He backed away a little to give Joe space. “What happened?”

Joe stood there for a while not saying anything, but finally taking a shuddering breath. “Just a bad dream,” he concluded, avoiding the word nightmare. “The storm has stopped, maybe we should just get back to your car now and try to get home,” he said hastily, changing the subject.

“Must’ve been some dream.” Pete nodded his head in agreement and let the covers around his shoulders fall to the floor. 

Joe slowly turned around to face Pete, his usual blue eyes tinted by heavy grey, and his face unusually pale. “Sorry I woke you,” he mumbled and went to grab his jacket from the floor, “guess it’s like old times,” he added underneath his breath.

“I needed to wake up soon anyway,” he shrugged, ignoring Joe’s last comment. Pete opened the hotel room door and waited for Joe there.

Joe frowned and followed Pete outside. They dropped the room key back at the front and started the trek back to the car. Once they got there, it was a mostly silent ride home, taking longer than usual because of the snow. When Joe finally got to Pete's house, it was 8:00 am. They’d had to pull aside for an hour when Joe’s mom had called, frantic, as expected. Joe stopped the car and sighed, watching as Pete got out. “Hey Pete?”

Pete slammed the door shut and walked around the other side of the hood. “Yeah?” He questioned.

Joe sighed and shrugged. “If you want… if you don’t have anywhere to go after all… my mom always has an open place at the table.” 

Pete bit his lip over a slight smile as he walked up the sidewalk leading up to the doorstep, stopping halfway to turn and look at Joe. “Thanks, Joe,” he said simply, starting to turn back around.

Joe just watched as Pete walked inside and closed the door behind him. He assumed he wouldn’t be seeing Pete on Christmas, he just thought he’d make the offer anyways.

The next few days passed quickly and before everyone know it, it was Christmas Day. Joe was awakened by a hard kick in the side and groaned, opening his eyes to see Sam standing beside his bed with a grin. “Fuck off Sam,” Joe mumbled and pulled the covers over his face.

“C’mon Joe,” Sam complained, tugging at the covers. “Can’t stay in bed all day,” Sam groaned, emphasizing on the word ‘all.’

Joe let Sam tug the covers off and sat up slowly, “well…” he smiled a little at the smell of breakfast, “that does smell good.” He scrambled out of bed and suddenly tackled Sam, putting him in a headlock and dragging him down the stairs while laughing, not even bothering to change out of his pajamas. “What’s for breakfast mom?” He chimes up as he pulled Sam into the kitchen, still in a headlock.

Mrs Trohman just rolled her eyes, “Nothing for you, if you keep tormenting your little brother.”

Sam wriggled in Joe’s grip, throwing punches but still laughing as he did so until Joe let go. “Yeah Joe, stop tormenting your little brother,” he mocked all smart-alecky as he walked onto the kitchen tile.

Joe rolled his eyes and stretched, sighing and slumping at the table after that. “We’re opening presents this evening right?”

Mrs Trohman nodded without looking up from what she was doing.

“I invited Pete because he probably had nowhere to go, but I doubt he’ll come… just thought I’d let you know, in case.” Joe added after a minute.

Mrs Trohman did look up this time, almost shocked. “Well, that was kind of you Joseph. And we always have enough to share.”

Joe glanced at Sam who had sat down across from him. “I got you something. It’s not much, and not very good, and I don’t really know if you’ll like it… but I- well… I hope you do.” Joe shrugged at the end and offered his brother a weak smile.

Sam gave Joe a little smile while scratching his fork around the edges of the plate in front of him. “I’m sure I will,” he assured with a little chime in his voice, “anything from you is great.”

Joe just shrugged, still disappointed that he wasn’t able to get Sam what he had wanted to get him. But he knew Sam would understand. Sam never complained about things like that. 

The morning passed quickly and before they knew it, it was evening, and the Trohman were just sitting down for dinner when there was a knock on the door. Mrs. Trohman was just getting up when Joe quickly shook his head. “Oh- no- I can-” Joe fumbled, standing up and walking to the front door. He opened it slowly and shivered as the cold wind blew into his face. 

There in the residue from the storm, was Pete, pulling the sleeves of his light hoodie own his arm to shield himself from the wind. “There’s always an empty spot at the table?” He muttered, glancing around the warm ambiance of the living room inside.

Joe was a little shocked to see Pete, but quickly moved aside so Pete could come in. “Not spending Christmas with Adam?” He questioned softly after he shut the door.

“No,” Pete answered in monotone, “didn’t even tell him I wasn’t coming over.” Pete stepped into the warmth of the kitchen and tried to smile a little at Joe’s family sitting around the table.

“Peter, we’re so happy you could join us tonight!” Mrs. Trohman smiles softly and stood, walking to Pete and embracing him warmly. When she pulled away she quickly got out an extra plate to set Pete a place.

Joe shifted a little and gave Pete a lopsided smile. “Well I’m glad you came,” he said quietly as he grabbed a chair for Pete.

Pete looked over at Joe as if about to say something before taking a seat in the chair Joe pulled out at the end of the table. “Thanks,” he said slowly with the same volume Joe has spoken to him with.

Joe sat back down in his chair beside Pete as Mrs. Trohman lay down a plate in front of Pete. “You’re always welcome Peter,” she said with a smile and sat back down. 

As they all ate, laughing and talking, Joe couldn’t help but let his gaze linger on Pete, watching as his lost lover smiled and laughed like he hadn’t seen him do in years. Pete seemed genuinely happy, unlike his now usual always grumpy or set off about something demeanor. He missed this Pete. He missed his Pete. He missed the Pete who had given him his heart two years ago. He still wanted to believe that Pete was somewhere. He still wanted to know why that Pete had gone away in the first place. When Pete glanced at Joe, he looked back down at his food, not able to meet Pete’s eyes. 

After everyone had finished, Joe helped his mother and Sam clear the table and Pete had disappeared, probably to find the bathroom. Once they were done, Pete reappeared and they all made their way to the living room, lounging around and opening what presents were under the tree. Joe was sitting beside Pete with a blanket draped over his shoulders. “Sorry I didn’t get you anything,” he said quietly and with a little guilt, “you can share some of my candy if you want.” 

Pete pulled his knees up to where he could rest his arms on top of them as he sat, turning his head to look at Joe beside him. “No, you’re fine,” he sincerely smiled a little, “the fact that there’s actually a family around me on Christmas is enough for me,” he mumbled a bit more softly.

Joe just smiled and wordlessly held out a candy cane to Pete, not really caring Pete had already turned him down. 

Pete took the the red and white candy and unraveled it before placing it in the side of his mouth. He turned back towards where Joe’s brother was tearing the wrapping off one of his gifts.

Joe’s eyes also drifted to Sam and then he furrowed his brow. The present, he didn’t recognize it at all. It hadn’t been there that morning. “What is it Sam?” He asked curiously.

Sam unlatched the case and ran his fingers down the strings of a guitar. “It’s from you, Joe!” He exclaimed, reading the tag attached to one of the pegs. “And it’s one of the nice ones from the store near us!” 

Joe’s face contorted into confusion and he shook his head slightly, his brow furrowed deeply. “What I-” He suddenly glanced at Pete with shock, “pete no.” He whispered, barely audible to even Pete. 

“Pete yes.” Pete didn’t even look at Joe, keeping his eyes on Sam in the floor covered in decorative wrapping.

Joe swallowed a lump from his throat and forced himself to look back at Sam. “Do you like it?” He asked quietly.

Sam stood up from the floor, wrapping paper falling from his lap. He sat on the edge of the couch and wrapped his arms around Joe. “Yes, thank you.”

Joe wrapped his arms back around Sam for a bit before pulling away and smiling weakly. “You’re welcome.” He said quietly and watched as Sam walked back over to admire his guitar. Joe set his teeth, feeling sick deep down inside. He had never in hell thought Pete would do something like this. Joe glanced at Pete after another few minutes. “Did you walk here?” He asked.

Pete nodded followed by a quick shrug, “Yeah.”

“I’ll drive you home then,” Joe said a bit bluntly, standing up and walking across the room to grab his coat and keys. It wasn’t a question- it was more of a command for Pete to follow him.

Pete stood off the couch as he followed Joe to the door and once they stepped out onto the porch, he jammed his hands into his pockets. “I can walk back,” he murmured blankly. 

“It’s cold. I’ll drive you,” Joe sighed and walked ahead of Pete to the car, “I am your fucking chauffeur, am I not?” Before Pete could respond, Joe opened the car door and slipped inside, shutting it behind him and starting the car.

Pete just shut the door behind him once he settled into the passenger seat, not saying anything until the were off the driveway. “I don’t see why you seem so aggravated.”

Joe just shook his head, “in what twisted part of your mind was that okay to you?” He questioned with some force as he drove.

“Twisted? What’s so twisted about it?” Pete chewed on his lip a little, “Sam deserves a guitar.”

“Not from you!” Joe snapped a little and clutched the wheel tightly, “it’s not a charity case Pete, and I never asked for that!”

“You’re fucking mad over it? I never even said I got him the guitar.” Pete looked away from Joe and grit his teeth, “don’t fucking waste your breath on something that’s already been done.” 

Joe just shook his head again and screeched the car to a halt in front of Pete's house. “Your gifts aren’t welcome Pete. Because in my experience, they always end up being pretty fucking insincere,” Joe hissed, not looking at Pete, his face set.

Pete sighed, unlocking the vehicle and stepping out onto the melting sleet. “Goodbye, Joe,” he mumbled almost tiredly. 

Joe turned his head towards Pete as he watched Pete get out of the car and shut the door, walking through the light falling snow up to his house and going inside. As the door shut and Pete disappeared, Joe let out a choked sob. “Fuck you. I fucking hate you Peter Wentz.” Without another word, Joe started the car back up and drove home. By the time he got there, he had set his mind. He walked inside and past his family, up to his room. Walking straight to his closet, Joe opened the door and grabbed the shoebox from the back. He tossed it carelessly onto the bed and pulled off the lid, grabbing the framed chest x-ray out. For a moment, his eyes filled with tears as he gazed at it. “Pete,” He whispered softly and with pain, the memory of that night two years ago still vivid in his mind. “Please be a dream.” He closed his eyes for a long minute and opened them up, knowing that everything was real and the only dreams were the nightmares he had every night that so cruelly deprived him of his needed sleep. Joe clenched his jaw and shoved the frame into his hoodie.

Joe rushed back downstairs and out to the car, starting towards his least favorite place. Adam’s house. When he got there, he slowly trudged to the door and held his fist, standing for a minute to try and convince himself to knock. After what seemed like hours he just pulled the frame out of his coat and set it by the door, running back to the car and sliding inside. He willed himself to start it and drive away by he couldn’t, knowing he would be leaving behind his most treasured possession. “Dammit.” He choked and quickly got back out of the car, running to the door and snatching the frame, and then straightening up just as the door swung open and he was met face to face with Adam.


	6. Boycott Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YO! Sorry it's been a while but thanks for waiting and here's your reward... more pain :) Love you guys <3 Please leave kudos if you enjoyed, and share with your friends <3

“Adam.” Joe didn’t know what else to say, but he pressed the picture frame against his chest and shivered from the cold.

“Trohman?” Adam stepped out from his house and shut the door behind him so the only light was the weak motion sensor one that hung above the door frame. “The fuck are you doing here?” he barked, stepping closer to Joe and eyeing the frame in his arms, full of suspicion.

“Nothing, I’m not doing anything,” Joe stuttered and took a step back, “I’m just going. I’m- I’m going home.” He trembled, probably from the cold, but he couldn’t deny Adam was kinda fucking scary.

“No the fuck you’re not.” Adam nearly stepped on Joe’s feet, “Showing up at my doorstep is nothing?” He snapped. The light from the motion sensor caught Adams movements and cast its glow onto Joe’s trembling expression before him. “What the hell is this shit?” He raised a questioning eyebrow before jerking the framed x-ray from Joe’s chest and taking a quick glance at it. He frowned then quickly followed it with a churlish laugh, “I knew you were a freak, but this is just funny.”

Tears stung Joe’s eyes and he frowned angrily. “Give it back!” He suddenly snapped, “it’s mine! And no matter how hard you want it, it will never be yours! He gave it to me first!”

Adam rolled his eyes and looked back down at the picture in his hands. “Aw, Pete gave this to you? How cute.” The outdoor light went out again, leaving Joe and Adam in only a sliver of light. “Well Pete doesn’t love you anymore,” Adams voice interrupted the brief silence, “I doubt he ever did.” There was a short, loud cracking sound then the motion sensor light cut on once more, revealing the x-ray on the ground, against the brick of Adams house, with a crack going down the side of the frame. “Why are you even here?”

Like lightning, Joe grabbed the framed x-ray and had it pressed back against his heart. There was rage in his eyes now, and tears slipping down his pale cheeks. “Pete might not love me anymore, but he certainly doesn’t love you! You’re a disgusting monster!” 

Adam clenched his jaw before glaring at Joe. “Say what you wish, but at least this dithguthing monther still has Pete. And he won’t leave,” Adam seethed, mocking Joe’s lisp. He backed off Joe’s feet, shoving him a little and diverting his glare to the ground. “What do you know about Pete anyway? He doesn’t show up and then you show up here instead?” The bitter tone in Adam’s voice became a low growl.

Joe felt a pang rush through his heart and stumbled a bit as Adam pushed him backwards. “Someday he will leave you! And wherever he was, I hope he was far away from you!” Joe turned around and tripped into the snow, quickly standing back up and stumbling towards his car. 

Adam turned around and opened his door. He waited to hear the sound of a car door shut before stepping inside and locking the door behind him. The light going out again as the door latched. 

 

*********************************************************************************************************

 

“No, hold your arm like this.” Pete took Joe’s hand and positioned it above the guitar strings. He stood close behind him and held the chords while Joe did the other part. “Now you try doing the chords,” Pete persuaded, letting go of the neck of the bass and moving his arms around Joe’s waist as he pressed his cheek on Joe’s back, watching him with a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. 

Joe nodded slowly and furrowed his brow in concentration, trying to play the chords Pete had shown him, and messing up near the end. “Damnit, fuck! That’s complicated,” he grumbled a bit. 

“Hey. It’s okay,” Pete reminded softly and pressed a kiss on Joe’s jaw, then planting another kiss on his lips. He trailed his arms up Joe’s chest and looked up at him from where Pete's head rested on Joe's side. “Try it again? Please?”

Joe smiled a little at Pete’s kisses but nodded. “Mmmm stop distracting me,” he mumbled, still smiling, and then began to play the chords Pete had shown him again, this time finishing without any mistakes. He looked at Pete with a grin, “Like that?”

“Oh I’m distracting you? Real bassists don’t get distracted by little things like this,” Pete teased, kissing him again, this time where he could see the outline of Joe’s collar bone. He laughed a little, “but hey, you didn’t mess up that time. So yeah, just like that,” Pete mused softly. 

Joe grinned and shook his head, taking the strap off from around himself and handing the bass back to Pete. “Alright then, you play something, and I’ll check if you’re a real bassist who doesn’t get distracted.” Joe smirked and raised an eyebrow.

Pete gave Joe his little ‘try me’ smirk, along with mimicking Joe’s raised eyebrow. While taking the bass in his arms and pulling the strap around his shoulder, He started playing the same thing he taught Joe with the exception of a few added chords.

Joe just smirked and wrapped his arms around Pete from behind, beginning to place soft kisses along the back of Pete’s neck. He slowly let one of his hands trail down to Pete’s thigh and moved it to the inside, rubbing it slowly up and down right under Pete’s crotch.

“Why you little-” Pete moaned softly, accidentally playing the wrong chord. He tried to suppress the little noises escaping his throat and bit his lip. “Not fair,” he let out a short laugh, “I didn’t do that to you,” he faked a whine. 

Joe just grinned, “I don’t think you’re a real bassist Pete. Look you even have a boner now.”

“Bet your pleased with yourself now, huh?” Pete looked at the grinning boy behind him and sighed, “Okay, maybe real bassists get distracted...sometimes.”

Joe grinned a little and nodded. “And now it’s time for you to pay less attention to that bass and more attention to me,” he stated.

Pete looked down and smirked. He pulled the strap off his shoulder and set the bass against the wall. “You win,” he mumbled, turning around and lacing his arms around Joe’s neck, kissing him deeply and walking him backwards until the backs of his knees hit the mattress and they fell onto the bed. 

Joe kissed Pete back with equal amount of force, sliding his hands into Pete’s dark hair as they fell back onto the bed. “My mom is gonna be home soon,” he mumbled against Pete’s lips.

“We’ll make it quick,” Pete promised.

Afterwards, both of them then lay snuggled up against each other under the sheets, undressed. Pete finally moved off the bed and searched for his clothes off the floor, dressing himself as Joe did the same. “I think we had an- exciting- lesson today,” Pete said, pulling on his shirt and smirking. 

“Yeah,” Joe grinned, just as he heard the door open and then his little brother’s voice excitedly calling his name from downstairs. He sighed and pulled away. “I should go say hi,” he said softly. 

“Then go say hi,” Pete mumbled, letting go of Joe. “I’ll go through the window and I’ll...see you tomorrow.” He smiled, once again, kissing his lips softly.

Joe nodded and sadly watched as Pete slipped out the window. But he would see him tomorrow, just like he said.

 

*****************************************************

 

Joe sat on the couch at Andy’s apartment with Patrick. They had all three decided to spend New Years Eve together instead of going to some shitty overcrowded party. Patrick had even convinced Andy to get some alcohol for them. Andy had reluctantly obliged. 

“So he bought a guitar for Sam and pretended it was from you?” Patrick questioned, having just heard the story from Joe.

Joe nodded slowly, letting out a frustrated sigh. “It just pisses me off that he thinks he can just walk in and do that shit like he never ruined my life in the first place. He’s probably just guilty.”

Patrick shook his head, “I’m actually shocked he would do something that selfless. I don’t see why you’re so pissed about it Joe. Isn’t Sam happy? That’s what matters. And Pete owes it to you anyways, considering how much he’s using you.”

Joe just looked down. Patrick was right, the guitar made Sam happy. He just hated the fact that he had to acknowledge that Pete Wentz had done something nice for him, because he really just wanted to hate the guy. But who was he kidding. “Yeah whatever,” he finally sighed, taking a small drink of the beer in his hands.

Patrick smiled and nudged Joe in the shoulder a bit, “Yeah whatever your face. You know I’m still going to set Andy on his ass if he hurts you, so if there’s anything else you have to tell me-”

“Chill out Patrick, he hasn’t done anything to me. I’m fine.” Joe shook his head and glanced to the kitchen where Andy was doing something, “Andrew, make your boyfriend stop pestering me please?” He sighed tiredly.

Patrick just grinned, “Yeah, give me attention Andrew.”

Andy sighed and leaned on the arm of the couch before slowly slouching down on the couch beside Patrick, draping his arm behind Patrick’s shoulder. “This good?” 

Patrick nodded and leaned against Andy, pressing a kiss into his neck. “Yes, this is good.” He mumbled and took Andy’s hand.

Joe rolled his eyes but smiled a little. “Can we watch a movie so I don’t have to watch you two making out all night?”

Andy laughed slightly. “Sure, what movie?” He asked both Joe and Patrick. 

“Doctor Who?” Joe mused, playing with his hoodie strings distractedly. 

Patrick twisted his lip a bit, “that’s a tv show.”

Joe shrugged again, “whatever.”

After bickering a while, they finally decided on something and spent the rest of the evening in relative peace, Patrick cuddled into Andy’s warmth and Joe lost in his thoughts; thoughts about Pete, mostly. At this point, he couldn’t really get the guy out of his head, so he stopped trying. 

 

***

 

Three days uneventful days passed, and Joe distracted himself with an extra assignment from school. He was beginning to wonder if he had driven Pete away, but he did still have Pete's car, although not for much longer, as Pete would get his license back soon. Finally, early one the morning of January 4th, 5:00 am to be precise, Joe’s phone began to ring with a familiar tone. His eyes slowly blinked open and he groaned, reaching for his phone and answering it. “This… better be good… Pete…” he mumbled, half asleep still.

“Yeah,” Pete started, sounding completely awake compared to Joe. “I have an offer for you.” The sound of Pete’s fingers rubbing up and down the back of the phone could be heard as he waited for a response.

Joe lay there a minute and blinked. “Uhm, okay?” He sighed, “what is it?” He almost had a bad feeling about it, like Pete was going to come up with some crazy idea and make this chauffeuring situation more complicated than it had to be. 

“You wanna play bass again?” Pete asked vaguely in a slightly rushed tone. “Arma needs a bassist,” he clarified after a moment, more directly, “and Tim left last week.” 

“Wait-” Joe took a nervous breath and sat up in bed, suddenly much more awake, “you want me? To play bass? For Arma Angelus? You’re kidding right?”

“Nope, not kidding.” Pete took a drink of something on the other line before speaking again, “so what is it? Are you gonna pick up that bass again or what?”

Joe sighed. He wondered if this was a good idea but- there was no way he could turn this down. It had always been his dream to play in a band. “Yeah, alright. Okay. I’ll play bass for you guys. Is- everyone else okay with it?” Joe ran a hand through his curls as he swung his legs over the side of his bed.

Pete’s shrug could almost be felt through the phone, “don’t know, but we just need a bassist.”

Joe mused for a bit and then shrugged to himself. “Fair enough. When’s the next practice?”

“Tomorrow,” Pete said casually, “at eight. My place, so you know where to be.”

Joe smiled a little. “Okay, I’ll be there. And Pete?”

Pete rubbed the back of his phone again. “Yeah?” 

“I’m-” Joe let out a short breath and blew out his cheeks a bit. “I’m sorry about Christmas. I admit, I was an asshole. It was- it was really cool of you to get Sam that guitar. He loves it. So, thank you.”

Pete was quiet for a moment, chewing on the inside of his lip. “Yeah- welcome, I hoped he would.” 

Joe smiled a little. “So uh, I think I’m going to go back to bed but, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Pete sighed, “Night.” With a short clack of the phone, Pete hung up.

Joe flopped back onto his bed with a large grin. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this happy. Things were going to be okay. He whispered that out loud to himself before he fell asleep. 

 

***

 

“Welcome to the family,” Jay grinned as Joe walked into Pete’s garage where they had set up practice. 

Joe shrugged, “thanks, I guess.” He set down his bass case and undid it, taking out his bass. He smiled as Pete walked out to the garage but looked down as Adam followed. 

Pete jumped down the last couple steps to the garage with the microphone cord wrapped around his arm, the mic dangling at the end of his hand. Pete grabbed a chord from on top of one of the speakers. “Joe is going to be playing bass in replacement,” he said, kneeling at where Joe sat to plug in a cable into Joe’s bass and standing back up again to feel Adam right behind him, against his back.

“You didn’t tell me Trohman could play bass,” he mumbled tautly in Pete’s ear, “or that he’d be playing with us.” Adam shot a glance down at Joe, quickly giving him an under-the-table glare. 

“Well he is, and he can actually play too.” Pete walked away from Joe and Adam to set up the mic around his arm.

Joe looked up at Adam nervously and opened his mouth to say hi but his voice ended up cracking terrible as he tried to get the word out so he just looked back down and cleared his throat, messing with his bass a little to avoid Adam’s ever present glare. 

“Not even a hello?” Adam cocked his head with a counterfeit smile. He twisted his lip before walking over to where he left his guitar hanging on the garage wall, slinging it over his shoulder, not giving Joe a chance to respond. He fumbled with the pegs but still shot glances at Joe from behind him.

Jay looked up at Pete. “Where’s Chris?” He questioned, “thought he said he was going to be on time today…”

“When has Chris ever shown up early?” Pete laughed lightly.

“Chris shows up when he can,” came Chris’s disembodied voice from behind the door. He swung the door open and hopped down into the garage, immediately helping Pete set up their supplies like he usually did. “Joe’s first practice today, yeah?” He gestured Joe and smiled when Joe looked up at him.

“Oh uh, yeah.” Joe gave a small smile and looked back down at his bass. He’d talked to Chris and Jay a little before, but wouldn’t call them friends. The only person he really was close to was Pete- or at least he had been at one time. Joe wasn’t sure what he was to Pete anymore, or what Pete was to him. 

Jay walked up to Joe and handed him a few pieces of paper, “those are the tabs for We Are The Pale Horse,” he spoke casually.

Joe took the papers from Jay and nodded. “A-alright. Thanks.” He could feel Adam glaring at him but tried to ignore it. 

Pete flipped the mic on with a short, high screech before getting it under control and taking a drink from a water bottle that sat on the concrete garage floor. As if on cue, Chris started his guitar as everyone played through the song. At one point, Pete egged Joe out of his seat to get him to move around with the rest of them as he figured out his part.

By the end of the song, Joe felt his face burning red. “That was shit, sorry,” he mumbled.

Jay laughed, “Don’t be too hard on yourself Trohman. That’s way better than Tim would’ve done on his first try.”

Adam approached the group from where he’d played in the corner throughout the whole practice. “Tim was a better bassist than Trohman will ever be,” he said with an ironic casual tone. “But guess that’s just my opinion. Someone must’ve seen something in him to let him play with us,” he glanced at Pete as he muttered the last part under his breath, before leaning against the garage door with his arms folded underneath each other.

Joe flinched a little under Adam’s words. He got up quickly and began to pack his bass. “I have to get home, I promised Sam I’d- do something with him. Just text me,” he said to Pete and then saw Adam’s glare, “about when you need me next, I mean.” He finished and then picked up his bass case. “I’ll see you guys.” Joe left the garage quickly, before Chris or Pete could get a sentence out.

Jay raised an eyebrow, “Nobody asked your opinion, Bishop. But thanks for it anyways, ass.”

Pete opened his mouth to say something as he rolled up the chords, but shut it once the door shut behind Joe as he left. 

Chris sighed, “who the fuck spat in your cereal this morning?” 

“Fuck off, Gutierrez,” Adam spat.

 

***

 

Joe gathered his books and shoved them into his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder and heading towards the school exit. The halls were empty and silent- he liked it this way. He had stayed late at school to finish that project he’d gotten himself into, but there was only so much time he could spend studying. He pulled out the keys to Pete’s car as he walked into the parking lot, when he noticed a car pulling up and driving slowly behind him. He frowned and shoved his hands into his pockets and walked a little faster. Suddenly, the car sped up until it was ahead of Joe, passing him and swiveled around so the headlights shone into his face. Joe squinted in confusion and was able to make out the furrowed face of Adam through the windshield. His eyes grew wide. 

Adam forwarded the vehicle, backing Joe against the brick of the school. The engine revved up a couple times for no apparent purpose other than to appear daunting, until with a quick loud impact delivered a harsh slam to Joe’s waist, his hips wrenching under the pressure of Adams car and the rough brick wall. Adam had pinned Joe between the wall and the grill of his car, something under the hood hissed from the impact but Adam didn’t care at the moment. 

Adam slammed the clutch into ‘park’ and stepped out onto the asphalt, slamming the car door loudly and trudging over to Joe with his jaw clenched, as well as his fist clenched by his sides. “You going to Pete’s?” He spat, trudging closer to Joe, “Is that what you use Pete’s car for every week? Is that why Pete let you in the band? Fucking tell me what you’re hiding,” he seethed.

Joe took gasping breaths, the pressure making him feel as though he would break. He looked at Adam with wide and scared eyes, shaking his head. “N- no! No! I’m- I’m going home- please! I’m- I can’t breath! Please move your car!” He pleaded, grasping at the car to push it away with no luck, his stomach and hips being pushed back with severe pressure.

“Not until you fucking listen to me.” Adam stepped closer to Joe he was almost at eye level. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you and Pete?” He asked with a bit of a lower tone yet still harsh. He pushed the car back with one foot, a centimeter away from where he had Joe pinned but still not moving his eyes off of him. 

Joe whimpered a bit. “I- nothing. Nothing is going on- I’m just his chauffeur- please- Pete would never do anything with me… I’m not-” he groaned a bit and tried to shift, becoming angry, “I’m not his type! He hates me!”

“Bullshit!” Adam slammed his arm across Joe’s collar, keeping it there just below his throat. “Then tell me why Pete would offer you to play bass for us and ask you to drive his ass around, that doesn’t sound like hate to me!” Adam was yelling now, his eyes filled with rage. He gripped Joe’s jaw in his hand and shoved his head back against the wall a couple times before repeatedly giving Joe a hard fist to the stomach. The car had somehow been pushed back in between Adam’s punches to give Adam enough room to now stand in front of Joe, holding him against the wall with his body now instead. “That’s bullshit!” Adam repeated again, before suddenly letting go of Joe so Joe fell to his knees.

Joe cried out and choked a bit, gasping for breath. “It- it’s not because he likes me!” He used one hand to cover his face slightly, “he asks me to do stuff because he knows I won’t say no- he’s using me for his convenience…” Joe knew that all the words coming out of his mouth were true, and he hated it. “Pete is using me. Nothing is going on...” He ended in a whisper, the taste of blood in his mouth, as his eyes slipped shut.

Adam crouched down where Joe sat nearly curled up on the asphalt. “You wish Pete cared about you,” he said in monotone, “you fucking wish.” Adam tilted his head at Joe and turned his body so Joe’s watery eyes were forced on him. “Now you’re gonna go home. You’re gonna tell Pete to find another bassist and keep your mouth shut about any of this.” Adam slowly stood back up, “Because I know you, Trohman. I see the look you give Pete. That look doesn’t belong to you and neither does he.”

Tears began to spill from Joe’s eyes. He nodded quickly. “Yes- alright. Okay.” He whispered, nodding frantically. He wanted Adam to let go of him. He wanted to be alone.

Adam slammed the hood of his car down with his fist before he walked off without another word, his feet skimming the ground as he walked, until he started the car and sped out of the school parking lot, leaving Joe on the ground without another look.

Joe slowly curled into himself as tears streamed down his face. The first loud voice in his head screamed, ‘call the cops!’. He pushed it aside and didn’t listen to it. For what must have been half an hour, he lay there, the pain almost too much to move. Every time he began to cry again, his body would shoot with pain and he would remember why he forced himself to stop. As the sun began to set, Joe somehow managed to get to a sitting position, but knew there was no way he was walking or driving home. He grabbed his phone and shakily dialed Andy’s number, hitting send and holding it to his ear. 

Andy moved his arm from around Patrick’s shoulders to slip his phone from his pocket. “Hey Joe,” he started casually.

Joe took a shaky labored breath. “Andy?” The distress in his voice was evident, not to mention the way it cracked at the end, “I need help- I- I need a ride home…” Joe let out a groan at the end and closed his eyes.

Andy pulled the phone from his ear and shot Patrick a worried glance before speaking into the phone again. “Where are you?” Andy asked with concern creeping into his voice, standing up and reaching for his keys. 

Joe leaned back against the brick and closed his eyes. “School. By the gym. You’ll see me.” He spoke quietly, feeling too weak to even raise his voice. 

Patrick furrowed his brow and stood up along with Andy. “Andy,” he put his hand gently on his boyfriend’s arm, “What’s going on?”

“I’m on my way,” Andy said hurriedly. He clicked his phone off and turned to Patrick, placing his palm on Patrick’s back. “I’m not sure, but I think Joe’s hurt.” Andy pulled away and headed for the door, “you coming?”

Patrick nodded and grabbed his jacket. “How bad, Andy?” He asked as he followed Andy to the car, fear and concern laced through his tone. 

Andy slid into the driver’s seat, starting the car. “I couldn’t tell,” he said honestly, sounding a little stressed, “He just told me he needed to be picked up.”

Patrick nodded and climbed into shotgun. The whole way to the school, he felt a little on edge, but tried to tell himself maybe Joe just couldn’t start Pete's car, or had walked to school and wanted a ride home since it was dark. But no- Joe definitely drive to school this morning. Patrick remembered meeting him at the car. “He was staying late at school to finish a project,” Patrick mumbled, as they pulled into the parking lot. They parked beside Pete’s car and Patrick jumped out, looking around. “Joe?” He called and then his eyes fell on the figure huddled against the brick wall, almost unseen in the dark shadows. “Joe!” Patrick exclaimed frantically and began to run towards his friend. He dropped onto his knees beside Joe and cupped his face, “What the fuck did they do to you?” He almost cried, but held back tears.

Joe grimaced a little at Patrick’s touch. “I- it’s just the normal- not that bad. I just-” he groaned a little at the sharp pain in the back of his head, “need a ride.”

Patrick put a hand behind Joe’s head and quickly pulled away. “You're bleeding Joe. What did they do? Did they hurt your head? Joe this isn’t okay, we should call the-”

“No!” Joe protested shaking his head, “Andy,” he breathed, “could I get a hand?” He held up his hand to Andy, pain written all over his expression caused by any movement.

Andy gripped Joe’s hand and helped him off the ground, Joe nearly collapsing into him. “Joe this is- this is not normal,” Andy stuttered, observing the bruise on Joe’s jaw and feeling the back of his head to feel where the blood was coming from. “We can’t just take you home.”

Joe tried to pull away. “You’re not taking me to the hospital.” He said firmly but almost as a groan, “I’m fine.”

Patrick frowned and looked at Andy with a furrowed brow. He then slowly looked back at Joe. “Joe, what happened?”

“I already fucking told you,” Joe mumbled, his body collapsing against Andy’s again, “the bullies- it doesn’t matter…” Joe was beginning to realize he couldn’t let his mother see him like this. “Can I stay at your place Andy?” He asked weakly.

And glanced at Patrick before shifting himself so he was in a position where he could help Joe over to his car. “Yeah,” he decided after a moment of not saying anything. He frowned, wishing he could take Joe to the hospital but knowing that Joe would not have that. Andy motioned for Patrick to help his hold Joe up as they limped over to Andy’s car.

Patrick quickly came to Joe’s other side and they helped him to the car. “What about Pete's car?” Patrick asked with worry.

“Just leave it for now,” Joe whispered, laying down in the back seat with a grimace, a hand protectively over his abdominal area.

Andy frowned as he looked at Joe through the rear view mirror. He didn’t say anything but pulled out of the school parking lot and starting the drive to his place. 

Patrick continued to glance at Joe where he lay in the back, but didn’t speak either. Once they got to Andy’s apartment, Patrick and Andy helped Joe inside and got him onto the couch. 

Joe let out a soft groan and closed his eyes, “could I get- some- water-” he whispered.

Patrick nodded, “yeah, be right back.” He walked to the kitchen with Andy and frowned as Andy got down a glass to fill with water. “His head wound is more fucked up than any bullies have ever given us Andy. But- he seems like he’s in a lot more pain from something else. What are we supposed to do? God damnit, why does Joe always have to get himself into fucked up situations?”

Andy set the glass down on the counter and leaned his palms against the countertop. “Yeah, it’s definitely not just a head wound. I saw him in the car. His stomach- there’s something wrong with it.” Andy mumbled under his breath so Joe couldn’t hear. “Should we ask him about it in the morning?”

Patrick shook his head, “I don’t know Andy. I don’t know.” Patrick wrapped his arms around himself and glanced worryingly back to the living room. “We should get him his water…”

Joe had pushed himself to a sitting position and grimaced as he lifted his shirt to reveal the dark green brown and purple bruises covering his stomach and hips. It looked so bad that Joe was surprised he hadn’t broken anything. He didn’t notice when Andy and Patrick walked back into the living room, and he continued to examine his bruises, gingerly touching them and whimpering a bit.

“Holy shit Joe-” Patrick choked out, his eyes wide.

“Oh fuck,” Andy gasped a little inaudibly. He quickly set the glass down on the coffee table side the couch and looked at Joe with shock plastered on his face. “What caused that?” Andy asked, aghast at the odd shaped welts and bruises.

Joe shook his head and pulled his shirt back down. He knew he couldn’t argue with them. “Don’t worry about it,” he mumbled and lay back again. 

“No,” Patrick shook his head and knelt down beside the couch, pulling up Joe’s shirt. Joe just grimaced, but didn’t make a move to stop Patrick. Patrick took a few deep breaths, he almost couldn’t look at Joe. He felt like throwing up. “Joe what did they do? DId they use a bat? What the fuck gave you these bruises?”

Joe was quiet for a long time. “A car,” he finally mumbled, “they pinned me against the brick wall with a car. I didn’t see who it was or what car it was,” he lied at the end, keeping his eyes closed.

“What the fuck? A car?” Andy almost didn’t believe it, but when taking another look at the green and purple marks, he knew it had to be true. “God Joe, why didn’t you call the police? There’s got to be security cameras that could have caught it.” Andy’s voice seemed frantically worried. He brushed his fingers along one of the bruises but quickly stopped when the skin there was obviously too soft and painful to the touch.

Joe groaned again. “Please don’t. Just leave it. Please Andy. Please,” he looked desperate, “you guys can’t tell anyone. Please.”

Patrick’s face fell and he was quiet for a while. He brushed some curls from Joe’s sweaty forehead and nodded. “We won’t Joe. I’m going to get you some ice.” He got up and trudged back to the kitchen for ice.

Joe looked back at Andy. “Promise me?” He whispered drearily.

Andy twisted his lip. His first instinct was to disagree and take Joe somewhere where he could get professional medical care, but after a long moment, and nodded with a sigh. “Promise.”

“Thank you,” Joe sighed and reached out for the glass. “Could I get some of that now?” He asked with a strained tone.

“Yeah, of course,” Andy handed the glass to Joe’s outstretched arm.

Joe slowly took a sip and coughed a bit, then drinking more before setting it back down. “Thanks Andy,” He muttered and closed his eyes. 

A moment later Patrick came into the room with a damp towel and lay it across Joe’s stomach. Joe winced at first but let Patrick do what Patrick was going to do. Patrick lay two ice packs across the towel, and then handed Joe the glass of water with two small white pills. “You’ll need those, for the pain.” Patrick then got up and left the room again.

Joe nodded and swallowed the pills with some effort and the rest of the water. He glanced at Andy, “will you text my mom and say I’m staying the night?” He muttered. 

“Mh hm,” Andy hummed and quickly pulled out his phone to text Joe’s mother. After a moment he sat on the edge of the coffee table. “She said that’s alright.”

Joe nodded and closed his eyes again but didn’t say anything. A moment later Patrick reemerged from Andy’s room with a blanket and draped it over Joe’s body. “Try to sleep. Just call for us if you need anything okay.”

“Mmmm….” Joe hummed out painfully in response. 

Patrick took Andy’s hand and pulled him from the room, turning off the lamp. Once they were in Andy’s room and settled into bed, Patrick shook his head. “Holy hell Andy.”

Andy closed his eyes, letting out a breath. “I know,” he breathed, “The kids from school have never done anything like that before... it’s terrible.”

Patrick pressed his face into the crook of Andy’s neck and wrapped his arms tightly around Andy. “If anything else happens, we have to call the police,” he spoke softly, in the back of his mind praying nothing else would happen.

“Yeah,” Andy whispered in agreement, holding the back of Patrick’s head and weaving his fingers through his soft brown hair. “We can’t let that happen again.”

Patrick let his eyes flutter shut. “No, we can’t,” he mumbled back, the feeling of Andy’s fingers in his hair soothing his nerves. They were both quiet for a while before Patrick finally spoke again, quietly, “Goodnight Andy. Love you.”

“Night,” Andy whispered, pressing a kiss to Patrick’s forehead, “love you.” Andy messed with Patrick’s hair until his fingers grew tired as sleep caught up with him and his fingers stayed woven there as he slept

 

***

 

“Holy fuckin shit, Trohman,” Jay’s eyes roamed over the bruises on his jaw and the bandage he had found on his lower stomach. Joe had of course tried to hide it, but after trying to play bass with an extremely bruised abdomen and miserably failing, both Jay and Chris had discovered his secret. “What the fuck happened to you?”

Joe shrugged a little, pulling his shirt back down from where Chris had pulled it up. “It’s nothing. I got hit by a car but, it wasn’t going too fast. And- it drove off. It’s all over now, it doesn’t matter.” Joe shifted uncomfortably.

Jay raised an eyebrow. “Damn. That’s intense. Well clearly you’re in no shape to be playing bass right now. You could’ve just called in.”

“No- I just need to talk to Pete. Where is he?” Adam and Pete were absent so far, and while Joe was in no hurry to see Adam again, he still had to tell Pete he was quitting the band. 

Chris twisted his lip, “Pretty sure he’s outside with Adam?” He said in more of a question, “Adam usually smokes outside around this time, sometimes.”

Joe furrowed his brow and slowly sat. “I’ll wait for them to come back in. Don’t want to interrupt…” he trailed off and scuffed his shoe on the floor. 

Jay nodded and smirked. “Yeah if Adam and Pete are alone together somewhere, it’s not a good idea to interrupt them. They’re most likely either making out or having sex.”

Joe grimaced at that idea, but didn’t say anything.

Chris rolled his eyes, “I liked the idea of it just being a smoke break but you’re not wrong.”

Just then, Adam closed the door to the garage with Pete closely behind him, almost dragging Pete by the hand. His eyes had a brief moment where he met Joe’s eyes and gripped Pete’s hand a little more tightly at the sight of him. 

“Speak of the two,” Chris mumbled.

Joe stood up and ran a hand through his hair, wincing a little at the movement and letting out a soft grunt as he lowered his arm. 

“Joe got hit by a bus,” Jay smirked.

“Shut the fuck up, Jay,” Joe mumbled.

“What?” Pete raised an eyebrow, looking from Joe to Jay.

“He really should be home right now to relax but he’s stubborn,” Chris pointed out. 

Joe shrugged, “I got in a small accident it was nothing…” he avoided Adam’s penetrating gaze, “I’m not here for band practice anyways I… I need to talk to Pete.” He refused to look up, crossing his arms lightly over his chest in the least painful way. 

Adam rolled circles on the back of Pete’s hand with his thumb before letting go and slipping his hand into his pocket to gesture for Pete to go talk with Joe. 

“Uh, Okay,” Pete mumbled and went back to open the door that left the garage and entered the laundry room, holding it open and waiting for Joe.

Joe shrugged. “It’s not private,” he said bluntly. He didn’t want to have to leave the room. He just wanted to get it over with and wanted Adam to witness it. 

Pete hopped back down the stairs and looked at Joe from where he stood in waiting for what he had to say.

Joe shifted a little. “I just- it’s been cool and all to play with you guys, but like…” Joe’s gaze fell to Adam who had this disgusting start of a triumphant smile on his face. ‘This asshole pinned me with his car and probably almost broke my ribs…’ Joe thought, and then something inside him twinged. Bullies don’t win. “I was just wondering if I could get the bass tabs for Misanthrope, so I can practice at home, since like, I got hit by a car and all and I just need to take a few days…” Joe’s glanced back at Adam, and this time Joe had that triumphant smirk, but it was in his eyes.

Pete nodded, “yeah, Jay usually has the tab sheets.” Pete looked to Jay in hopes that he still had the papers with him.

Adam’s jaw tightened as he bit on his tongue. He looked daggers at Joe with a suppressed fire behind his eyes, but forced himself to look normal.

Jay shrugged. “They’re at my house but I’ll drop them off at yours tomorrow, Trohman.”

Joe nodded, “Alright. Thanks. I gotta go then,” he slowly reached into his jacket and pulled out the keys, wincing a little bit heading towards the door. He hoped Adam wouldn’t follow, and shivered at the thought. 

“Don’t get hit by anymore cars!” Jay called after him.

Joe just laughed dryly and flipped Jay off as he left the garage.


End file.
